


Coming Home

by Swordsoul2000



Series: Drift Bond [2]
Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Developing Relationship, F/M, First Meetings, Gen, PTSD, Past Character Death, Pre-Relationship, Psychological Trauma, The Drift (Pacific Rim), Trust, Trust Issues, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-12
Updated: 2014-02-12
Packaged: 2018-01-12 01:46:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 39,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1180450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Swordsoul2000/pseuds/Swordsoul2000
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Raleigh's perspective on Pacific Rim.  companion fic to She is my copilot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coming Home

**Author's Note:**

> italics - thoughts, and Drift-speak.
> 
> underline - Japanese
> 
> again, shout outs to quigonjinn and snack-size, both of which are on my daily tumble browse stops. You see something familiar, that's where I found it.
> 
> Note: I will not incorporate the Knifehead segment, except in flashback. I'm starting this fic at the Wall, due to the fact that pre-Knifehead Raleigh is a completely different character than the one we meet after the opening titles. Perhaps if there's interest, I'll come back and do the Knifehead fight, but if I do, it will be in another fic. 
> 
> Also, there is a major timeline difference to what is stated in the movie. I did this for one reason, and one reason only: I counted out just how much time elapsed from February 29, 2020 to January 3, 2025. And, contrary to popular opinion, it was not five years, four months. It was four years, ten months. So that is what I'm going with. Add in some time for Raleigh's recovery...yeah, I'm just shaving a year off of what Raleigh told Pentecost.

~~~~~

Another hopeless day at the Wall of Life project, and Raleigh Becket felt the same surge of shame he felt every time he stopped by the ration board, where the three levels of work on the Wall were spelled out, along with the associated compensation. Green worked on the ground, mostly support work, gathering and processing materials for the upper levels. Those were the safest jobs, the jobs where virtually nothing happened to you, though there still were the occasional accidents. Unfortunately, those were also the jobs that 'paid' the least. Grey worked the mid-levels, where Raleigh currently worked. Mostly it involved going behind the top guys, strengthening and stabilizing their work, sending materials up to the top of the Wall, such as it was.

Of course, the guys who worked up top, who's ration color was Red, those were the real dangerous jobs. The safety equipment those guys relied on was old, and prone to giving out without warning. The footing was treacherous up there as well, and one wrong step could send you to your death. The people running the Wall of Life project didn't care how many men died, there were always more to take their places. The amount of rations those working the top levels could claim was more than the two lower levels combined – it had to be, otherwise the Wall would never get finished. Some of the guys had families to look after, families that depended on that Red ration card to stay alive. Others were out only for themselves and could be seen carrying a few extra pounds, courtesy of their extra food. Everyone stayed away from them.

This hadn't always been his life. And Raleigh didn't count the fact that the Wall of Life program was just officially entering its fourth year, had been gaining steam – and attracting a steady stream of hopeless cases with nowhere else to go to work on on it – for three. It had been just over two years since Raleigh had joined the crews, since he'd swallowed the last dregs of his pride and signed up. But once, exactly four years, ten months and three days ago, Raleigh had been a Jaeger pilot, a Ranger, one of the elite few charged with the defense of humanity from the horrific monsters of the kaiju. Of course, that number had become so small these days that the average idiot would sooner put their faith in a massive wall to protect them, rather than a Jaeger. Never mind the fact that while the Wall was still under construction, Jaegers still caught and killed every kaiju that squirmed it's way out of the Breach, and their dwindling numbers meant that the surviving crews were having to spread themselves thin to keep the coastline secure from the monsters who menaced the world at shorter and shorter intervals.

Raleigh cut that thought off. He owed the Pan-Pacific Defense Force – the PPDC – nothing. Any and all loyalty and sympathy he had once held for the organization had faded after the way they had cut him off after his brother and copilot had died, the way they'd tossed him out like yesterday's garbage once it became clear to them that Raleigh would never accept another copilot, another Jaeger, not after the way he'd lost his own. Those deskbound assholes hadn't realized that piloting a Jaeger wasn't like traditional military service, that it couldn't be. It was too intimate for that. Or that there might be reasons beyond the physical that had kept Raleigh from returning to piloting duty.

Raleigh growled under his breath and dragged his mind away from the past, and into the present. It wasn't the food that tempted Raleigh now. Grey 'paid' well enough so he stayed relatively healthy. He certainly wasn't starving, the way those on Green were. It was the height that drew him. Normally he stayed well away from the top of the Wall, but every so often, the urge to go up high would prick at him again. The top of the Wall was roughly 300ft tall, the average Jaeger hovering around the 250ft mark. Working the top of the Wall would be as close as he would ever get to piloting again. To standing on top of the world with Yancy by his side.

Forcing himself to move on, Raleigh crammed into the inadequate space that housed the canteen and where all the administrative shit that building the Wall required got gone, with the rest of the workers for his shift. The foreman – Mike Smith – as if that was his real name, climbed up on some junked machinery, so he was visible by the entire crowd. “Now I got good news and I got bad news, fellas. Which one you wanted to hear first?”

“Bad news!” some wit spoke up. Glancing at the speaker, Raleigh saw it was one of the fat Wall workers, the ones who worked the Top solely to benefit themselves.

“Bad news:” Smith announced, “Three guys died yesterday, working the top of the Wall.” Raleigh had to sigh, along with everyone else. What else could they do? It wasn't as if it didn't happen all the time, and it wasn't as if the deaths were going to hold up construction by so much as an hour. If the men had families, they were doomed to starvation, unless they could attach themselves to some other worker, or joined the crews themselves. It sucked, but so did everything these days.

Somewhere in the crowd, someone else called out, “What's the good news?” Raleigh had a sneaking suspicion he knew what it was.

Smith heard him, and answered the question. “The good news...” he pulled out three Red ration booklets, “I got three new job openings, top of the Wall.” A beat to let that sink in, “Okay, who wants to work, who wants to eat?”

Yep, Raleigh had called it correctly. And sure enough, the first, and the second Red booklets were snatched up by men desperate enough to risk their lives for the smallest chance of making their circumstances better. As for the third...

Raleigh's feet were moving almost without volition, his body bringing to mind the old longing that he'd felt earlier that morning, that he still hadn't completely banished. And took the card.

~~~~~

Working the top was everything Raleigh had thought it would be. His new post put him about halfway up the massive structure, as the crews worked frantically to close the massive gap between two previous jobs. Perched on a narrow metal strut, with nothing between him and a deadly fall but his fragile safety line and his balance, Raleigh allowed his attention to narrow to nothing but his welding torch and the metal he was joining together. Once one piece was done, he moved into position for the next, not allowing himself to be tempted into enjoying the view, until it was nearly time to head down to the surface for food. Standing, Raleigh turned away from his work and faced the mighty ocean beyond, the body of water that had stolen Yancy from him, that they were walling off in a futile bid for their own protection.

Raleigh kept his eyes open, absorbing the view around him. Sure enough, standing here, he could almost imagine that he was still in a Jaeger, still on top of the world with Yancy by his side. It was why he didn't dare close his eyes. If he closed them, allowed the fantasy to engulf him completely, Raleigh couldn't be sure that he wouldn't step right off, lost in dreamland. And despite his guilt for the way he'd gotten his brother killed, that wouldn't be the right way to join Yancy. That would be the coward's way out, and Raleigh hadn't yet paid his dues.

Raleigh shook his head, dislodging his thoughts. It was time to eat. Carefully sliding his way to the ground, he'd just retrieved his lunch, and made his way to the canteen to warm it up, when there was a commotion around the small, crappy TV set mounted there. The channel was set to PPDN, the PPDC's news and propaganda network. Unable to help himself, Raleigh shoved his way to the front, straining to hear what the announcer was saying.

“... _here in Sydney where yet another kaiju attack took place. The kaiju, an enormous Category IV, broke through the coastal wall in less than an hour...”_

Raleigh stared, transfixed, as on the screen was the unmistakable pictures of a kaiju, as ugly as they all were, breaking through the Wall of Life seemingly without effort. Raleigh could feel the shock rippling like an earthquake through the workers around him at the sight. Sydney had completed their Wall two years ago. And it hadn't done anything to stop the rampaging beast it was supposed to protect against.

The announcer kept talking, though Raleigh barely heard her. “ _The Wall of Life had been deemed unbreachable by it's builders.”_

Some of the workers evidently agreed with her sentiments, loudly asking why they were building this thing if the kaiju could get through without problems. Raleigh didn't answer them. He'd known when he'd signed on to work on the Wall that it was a waste of time, but he hadn't had any other options then, and it had been another way to vanish off the grid.

“ _Ironically, it was the recently decommissioned Jaeger, Striker Eureka, piloted by Herc and Chuck Hansen_ –“ the announcer continued, while the screen showed the two pilots still wearing their drivesuits and surrounded by a horde of reporters and assorted MP personnel to keep order “ _– that finally took the beast down_.” Snapshots of the battle, the triumphant Jaeger painted a dull gray with pale yellow accents and two wing-like protrusions on her back, landing four powerful punches on the monster, before hitting it with a series of missiles mounted in her chest, killing it instantly.

The screen cut to the post battle interview, featuring the younger pilot. “ _Look, they decommissioned the Jaeger program because of mediocre pilots_.” the arrogant kid on screen said lazily. “ _It's that simple._ ” Raleigh felt the impact of those words like a punch to the gut, turned, and began to make his way away from the TV, away from the crowd. He might be using an assumed name at the moment, but before Raleigh had left the PPDC he'd been famous, his face splashed on magazines and newspapers across the globe. He couldn't take the chance that someone would recognize him. It might spark a mob.

The kid was still talking. “ _That's Striker Eureka's tenth kill to date. It's a new record._ ” Raleigh had heard enough. Leaving the crowd, and the ongoing interview behind, Raleigh was brought up short by a new sound, one that was instantly recognizable. Helicopter rotors. From the intensity of the blades, it was a Sikorsky, favored by the PPDC for Jumperhawk launch operations. And there was only one reason why a helicopter of that model would be coming to the Wall of Life in the deadfuck nowhere of Sitka, Alaska. They were here for him.

Raleigh knew that it wasn't as if he could hide, not if they'd already tracked him down. Slowly, he made his way out of the canteen, and into the open air, ignoring the snow that was blown into his face by the rotor downdraft. And who should step out of the chopper, but Raleigh's old commander, Marshal Stacker Pentecost.

“Mr. Becket,” Pentecost greeted him.

“Marshal,” Raleigh returned. “Looking sharp.” The smart suit Pentecost was wearing was mostly covered by his overcoat, but Raleigh could see enough of it to know it wasn't his uniform, despite the similarities. And what that meant, Raleigh had no idea. He wasn't sure he wanted to know.

Pentecost didn't react to the mild jibe. “Long time,” was all he said.

And what exactly, Raleigh was supposed to say in reply to that, he had no clue. “Four years, four months,” he said shortly, not that Pentecost needed the reminder of exactly how long it had been. He made no move to help the other man reach out. The Marshal evidently had a reason to be here, or he wouldn't have come.

Sure enough, Pentecost asked, “Can I have a word?” Raleigh could only shrug in agreement. It wasn't as if he had anything else to do. The sooner he found out what Pentecost wanted, the sooner Raleigh could get back to what was left of his life.

~~~~~

Figuring the Marshal would want privacy for this discussion, Raleigh led him into the bowels of the completed Wall, where almost no one went. “Step into my office, Marshal.” he told the other man as he took a seat on an old, partially dismantled sewer opening, the pipes that had once led to it having been long since cannibalized to feed the Wall. The top half of the structure was gone as well, having met the same fate, stray fingers of rebar still reaching for the sky. Soon, the rest of it would be gone, recycled to feed the Wall's voracious hunger for supplies.

“Took me a while to find you,” Pentecost told him, almost conversationally, “Anchorage, Sheldon Point, Nome –“

“Yeah, a man in my position travels with the Wall, chasing shifts to stay alive.” Raleigh volleyed back, not letting on how much the Marshal's words had disconcerted him. He'd joined the Wall to disappear, to go underground. Hearing the Marshal list off the last three jobs he'd worked made his skin crawl, but he wouldn't betray that weakness. “What do you want?” he asked, point-blank. He couldn't take too long here, or the foreman would find someone else to cover his post, and he'd have to start all over again down on Green. And getting off Green was a bitch. No way would Raleigh risk getting stuck there again unless there was no other choice.

Pentecost pursed his lips, but got to the point. “I've spent the last six months activating everything I can get my hands on. There's an old Jaeger. A Mark III. You may know it, it needs a pilot.”

Raleigh suppressed his instinctive reaction, the surge of eagerness so tightly controlled as to leave no trace on his face. _Gipsy_. It couldn't be. Had to be Chrome Brutus, Matador Fury, Shaolin Rogue, one of the others. The one Mark III Jaeger it _couldn't_ be was Gipsy Danger, the one Raleigh had piloted with his brother, before his stupidity had gotten Yancy killed and sent Gipsy to the scrapyard. To cover, he shook his head slowly, and said, “I'm guessing I wasn't your first choice.” Because there was no way Pentecost would have deigned to contact a screw-up like him unless all his other options were exhausted.

“You are my first choice.” Pentecost's voice was calm, matter-of-fact, with a stray hint of humor creeping in. “All the other Mark III pilots are dead.”

Raleigh couldn't help flinching at that. He hadn't known. But what could he have done? It wasn't as if he'd been able to fight alongside the deceased pilots, been able to provide the kind of backup they'd needed the way he'd once been able to. The backup he himself had never received. Standing, he walked toward Pentecost, stopping just in front of the other man. “Look,” he said heavily. “I can't have anyone else in my head again. I'm done. I was still connected to my brother when he'd died.” Pentecost had to know that. He'd been _in_ LOCCENT control for Raleigh's final combat drop. Had stood witness to Raleigh losing the one human who meant the world to him. “I can't go through that again, man, I'm sorry.” He couldn't let another copilot die because of him.

With that, Raleigh moved off, leaving the Marshal, and his promises of another chance, another Jaeger, and another copilot behind. He needed to get back to work.

Pentecost called after him. “Haven't you heard, Mr. Becket?” Raleigh paused, turned back around, curious. “The world is coming to an end. So where would you rather die, here, or in a Jaeger?” the Marshal challenged.

Raleigh froze at that, caught between two opposing forces. Dying by degrees on the Wall, just waiting for a kaiju to show up and smash the Wall to kindling, or go out the way Yancy had, in a Jaeger, making a difference.

Put that way, there really wasn't a choice after all.

~~~~~

Raleigh spent the entire journey to the Hong Kong Shatterdome in nearly complete silence. Pentecost had paperwork to do, that seemingly couldn't be put off long enough to tell Raleigh just what the hell was going on, or napping. None of the MP's Pentecost had brought with him were lining up to tell Raleigh what he was going to be walking in to either. It was almost a relief when the chopper landed on what was evidently the main helipad for the facility, judging by the amount of activity Raleigh could see out the window. Choppers were unloading, pilots, MPs, and mechanics running every which way, the kind of organized chaos that had always permeated every Shatterdome Raleigh had visited.

Pentecost bounded down the steps as as soon as they were lowered, striding purposefully over to their welcoming committee, a slight figure dressed all in black, nearly swallowed by her large black umbrella, tablet clutched to her chest. Most likely, she was the the Marshal's aide. Raleigh held off following Pentecost for a moment, taking in the sights. While Raleigh had never been to Hong Kong before, either with his parents or as a pilot, it felt almost like coming home. It felt as if the past four years had never happened, and he'd never left the PPDC.

Raleigh shook his head, dispelling the foolishness, and followed Pentecost, stopping just out of range of the aide's umbrella, waiting to be invited in. It was an invitation that would not be coming, he noted ruefully, as Pentecost opened the umbrella his aide had passed to him and handed it to Raleigh, while neatly stepping under hers, despite the difference in height between them. It neatly illustrated the fact that Raleigh was the outsider here, allowed in only so far.

Pentecost made the introductions. “Mr. Becket, this is Mako Mori. One of our brightest. Also in charge of the Mark III restoration program. She personally picked your copilot candidates.”

_Huh_. Raleigh turned his head to examine the woman before him more closely, rather than disregarding her as Pentecost's aide. He should have known better, really, the Marshal had never been one for bureaucratic flunkeys back when Raleigh had been under his command, but it had been an easy assumption to make. And now that he was truly seeing her for the first time, Raleigh was startled to find that the locks of hair framing her face were dyed the deadly, pale shade of kaiju blue. He was surprised to find that someone who was so comfortable standing next to straitlaced Stacker Pentecost had such clear rebellion in her.

Evidently, the feeling was mutual. “I imagined him differently,” Mori told Pentecost in Japanese, not realizing that Raleigh knew the language.

True, Raleigh was a bit rusty, it had been just over a year since the Wall in Japan had been completed and he'd come back to the States, but he'd always been good with languages, a necessary consequence of growing up all over the world. He was still reasonably fluent.

“Hey,” he said lightly, drawing both Mori and Pentecost's attention back to him. “Better, or worse?” Raleigh continued in Japanese, just to see how she would react.

For a split second, Mori froze, completely disconcerted by the fact that he'd understood what she'd said. But to her credit, she recovered herself quickly and pasted a gracious smile on her face. “My apologies, Mr. Becket. I've heard so much about you.” Mori replied, still speaking Japanese now that she knew he understood. Raleigh found that he appreciated that, that even when she was clearly mortified at her behavior, Mori possessed enough self-respect to avoid compounding the feelings by being overly apologetic.

And it wasn't as if she didn't have a right to her surprise. Raleigh knew, intimately, just how far he'd fallen. There would have been no reason for Mori to have imagined he'd have come so far from the Jaeger pilot he'd been. The truth was, the pilot he'd once been had died with Yancy. Mori, however, would have had no reason to be aware of that fact. So he smiled slightly in recognition of her apology, and gave a short nod, nearly a mini bow, of his head. Mori returned it, her smile starting to become real.

There was no further point to standing around in the rain, so they all moved off then, toward the elevator that would take them down to the heart of the Shatterdome. “We'll tour the facility first, then Ms. Mori will show you to your Jaeger.” Pentecost told Raleigh as they strode in, Mori reaching out and taking charge of Raleigh's umbrella once he'd collapsed it.

_My Jaeger,_ Raleigh thought with a momentary flash of bitterness. His Jaeger was Gipsy, and there was virtually no hope that she would be the one waiting for him. He knew the kind of damage she'd taken in her last battle, had felt the pain of her wounds on his own body, knew that he hadn't even had the chance to say goodbye to her, because they'd shipped her off to the Jaeger graveyard at Oblivion Bay before he'd woken from his coma. He was _not_ looking forward to stepping into some other team's Conn-Pod, one that was more than likely haunted by the ghosts of her murdered crew. But what choice did he have? He'd said he'd do this. _Yancy...Gipsy...I'm sorry...I'm so sorry..._ the familiar refrain of guilt echoed through Raleigh's mind, no longer sure what exactly he was sorry for. The list of his sins was so long.

Raleigh let out a breath in a rush, trying to clear his mind, casting about the confines of the elevator

in search of a distraction. The two large tanks filled with...something...at the back of the elevator and taking up most of the room seemed like a fair bet. He'd just stepped forward for a closer look at whatever it was when the elevator doors began to close and two people squeezed through at the last moment.

“Stay back, kaiju specimens are extremely rare, so look, but don't touch.” one of the newcomers admonished Raleigh as he collapsed his umbrella and began to strip out of his leather jacket right there in the elevator. Raleigh gave the contents of the tanks one last look before he looked away with a barely concealed shudder.

Again, Pentecost made the introductions. “Mr. Becket, this is our research team: Dr. Gottlieb, and Dr. Geiszler.”

“Ah, nah, call me Newt. Only my mother calls me Doctor.” the guy who had warned Raleigh away from the kaiju samples – Geizsler? Newt – said, his tone much more friendly. Then he turned on his colleague, who had slunk into the corner formed by the two tanks. “Hermann, these are human beings, why don't you say hello?”

“I have asked you not to refer to me by my first name around others, I am a doctor with over ten years – “ Hermann (Dr. Gottlieb?) began, only for Newt to begin talking over him. Raleigh cast a look at Pentecost for explanation, who gave a long suffering sigh in reply. Evidently this kind of behavior wasn't new. Fantastic.

At least the two scientists resolved their little spat fairly quickly, and Newt began resettling his shirt cuffs, rolling the sleeves back above his elbows, revealing colorful sleeve tattoos of...what looked to be kaiju. Raleigh thought he might even recognize one, stylized as it was, on the right forearm.

“Who's that, Yamarashi?” Raleigh asked, keeping it casual, not wanting to stir up bad memories in case they were memorial markers. Pilots did their best to catch the monsters early, and keep them away from populated areas, but that wasn't always possible and Yamarashi had been a particularly slippery bastard. He and Yancy hadn't even been the team assigned to that drop, that had been Romeo Blue, the second Jaeger to ever kill a kaiju, with Gipsy held in reserve. But Yamarashi's hide had been too thick for the experienced Jaeger's guns, and it had made it to shore. But Gipsy had been ready to go, and had stepped easily up to the plate, stopping it before it could make it's way further inland, finally garotting the kaiju bastard with some torn cabling they'd found, while Romeo Blue was still trying to get back into position. If that was the case, the sheer number of designs Raleigh could see on just the scientist's arms was heartbreaking.

Newt followed Raleigh's gaze and glanced down at the design in question. “Yeah, you got a good eye.” he said, his voice full of … Raleigh narrowed his eyes. Was that _fondness_ in the scientist's voice? For a _kaiju_? The tattoos suddenly took on new meaning, and Raleigh wasn't sure he liked the picture he found there.

“My brother and I took him down in 2017.” Raleigh knew his voice had flattened out considerably, but he didn't care. He was already regretting bringing the topic up.

Newt turned to look up at him. “You know, he was one of the biggest Category III's ever?” Yes, Raleigh had known that. He'd also known that Knifehead had been far bigger, nearly the size of a Category IV. “He was 2500 tons of awesome.” the scientist finished, sounding excited by the fact.

This guy couldn't be real. Unsure of how to react to such fervor, Raleigh looked back at Pentecost and Mori, looking for cues as to how he was supposed to react to this shit. Mori looked supremely annoyed, possibly mildly homicidal. Pentecost looked wearily resigned, as if he'd had to deal with this... _stupidity_ over and over and over again, and was far and beyond _done_ with it all. Taking his cue from them, Raleigh leveled his own disbelieving glare at the scientist.

It appeared that he got the message. “Or awful. You know, whatever you want to call it.” Newt backtracked hurriedly.

It appeared that Dr. Gottlieb had had enough of his colleague’s demented ramblings, jumping in with an embarrassed “Please excuse me, he's a kaiju _groupie_ , he loves them –“

“Shut up Hermann,” Newt broke in again, glaring at the other man. “I don't love them, okay? I _study_ them. And unlike most people here, I want to see one alive one day. And up close.”

Of all the stupid things the man had said in the past few minutes, this one took the cake. Seeing a kaiju from media photographs, or from the protection of a Jaeger was bad enough; those things were _nasty_ to look at, as if they were bred for sheer, ugly viciousness. Worse, and a feature of a good portion of Raleigh's nightmares – at least when he actually _managed_ to fall asleep, which was rare enough – was the fact that Knifehead had been _in_ Gipsy's Conn-Pod with him, for at least as long as it took to yank Yancy out. And when he wasn't dying with his brother again for the _nth_ time in his dreams, he was shaking awake at the realization of just how close the kaiju bastard had been to killing both of them. The only reason Raleigh was still standing here was because Knifehead had been sadistic enough to play with its food, like a cat with a helpless mouse, giving Raleigh just enough time to overload the remaining plasma cannon and hit it from point-blank range.

Thankfully, the elevator doors opened at just that moment, Mori and Pentecost walking out without a backward glance. Raleigh paused, just long enough to plant a heavy hand on Newt's shoulder. “Trust me, you don't wanna.” he said, letting his experience fill his tone with finality. Then he followed Mori and Pentecost out.

Raleigh caught up to Mori and Pentecost easily. “So, that's your research division?” he asked, letting sarcasm sharpen his tone. It was hard to believe that the department Dr. Shoenfield and Dr. Lightcap – the legendary pioneers behind the Jaeger program – had set up once the program had established itself, had fallen so for, in just under five short years.

“Things have changed, Mr. Becket. We're not an army anymore. We're the Resistance.” Pentecost said frankly. Up ahead, Mori was typing a code into a keypad. It must have been accepted, for the massive doors swished open. “Welcome to the Shatterdome.”

Raleigh stepped through, and nearly faltered at the sheer amount of activity going on beyond the doors. Only his years on the Wall, and the crowds of workers there saved him from complete embarrassment as he looked around, looking at what hadn't changed, and what had.

One thing that was definitely new, was the massive flip clock mounted over the doors Raleigh had just entered through, one that even Raleigh knew didn't show the correct local time. He craned his neck to stare at it, knowing it had to be important somehow, but not sure why.

“The War Clock, we reset it after every kaiju attack, keeps everyone focused.” Pentecost informed him, striding past Raleigh with Mori on his heels.

“How long until the next reset?” Raleigh asked, following, his eyes still on the Clock. _The time, it had to be showing the Sydney attack_ , he thought, just before the screech of breaks told him he'd nearly been run over by one of the myriad of small motorized carts that dotted the vast space. Holding up a hand to show the driver he was alright, and apologize for getting in his way, Raleigh followed after Pentecost, noticing that he was being left behind.

“A week!” Pentecost bellowed behind him, never so much as turning to check Raleigh's progress. “If we're lucky. My experts believe they'll be a kaiju attack even before that.” With that unsettling bit of news, Raleigh increased his pace, catching up to Pentecost and his shadow before they got too far away.

Once he'd reached them, Pentecost continued talking. “This complex used to hold thirty Jaegers in five bays just like this one.” the Marshal paused, to let that sink in. “Now we only have four Jaegers left.”

Raleigh was stunned. “I didn't know it was that bad.” he admitted, more than a little shaky at how precarious their situation was.

“It is that bad.” Pentecost grimly agreed. He nodded to the first stop on this little tour. “Crimson Typhoon, China, one of the greatest.” Raleigh could see the Mark IV now, being moved into a better position for combat thanks to a winch clamped to her Conn-Pod. Pentecost rolled off her stats. “Assembled in Changzhou, raw titanium core, no alloys, fifty diesel engines per muscle strand, very precise fighter. She's piloted by the Wei Tang brothers, triplets, local lads. They successfully defended Hong Kong Port seven times. They use the Thundercloud formation.”

“Oh yeah, triple arm technique.” Raleigh said, vaguely recalling something about a tri-armed Jaeger that had been making waves – as it were – in the Asian news bulletins. It had been shortly before Yancy had died, before his coma, recovery, and discharge, and Raleigh hadn't paid all that much attention to it at the time. He could see the three pilots now, easily recognizable by the way they scrapped around a single basketball hoop, the ball moving like a blur between them.

“Very effective.” Pentecost agreed, moving them away from what obviously was Crimson's usual territory.

Next stop was Scramble Ally, the deployment corridor where Jaegers were launched from. One was coming up the way now, mounted on the massive mobile platform that allowed them to move for local deployments. Longer distances were done using air drops, and a team of eight Jumperhawk choppers moving in concert.

“That tank, last of the T-90's.” Pentecost said, clear fondness in his voice for the massive machine moving toward them. “Cherno Alpha, first generation Mark I, the heaviest, oldest Jaeger in the service.” In clear contrast to Crimson Typhoon's elegant lines, Cherno was squat, built for heavy combat, with the sloped form of her reactor mounted where the Conn-Pod was usually positioned. “But make no mistake, Mr. Becket. It's a brutal war machine.” Pentecost finished his spiel on the Jaeger, then nodded to the two pilots, easily distinguishable by the drivesuits they still wore as they led their ground crew ahead of the Jaeger. “And those two, Sasha and Alekis Kaidenosky.”

“Yeah, I've heard of them.” Raleigh admitted, his eyes fixed on the approaching pair. He'd never actually met them before, but their exploits spoke for themselves. “Perimeter patrol, Siberian Wall,” he added, to keep Pentecost from getting suspicious.

Pentecost let it go. “And their watch stayed unbreached for six years. Six _years_.” he emphasized, then led them away.

A dog's incongruous bark alerted Raleigh to the next stop on their tour. “Herc! Chuck!” Pentecost called ahead of them. “Gentlemen, welcome to Hong Kong.”

Sure enough, there was Hercules Hansen, quite a bit older and grayer than when Raleigh had first met him six years ago, dressed in civvies, and holding an English bulldog on a leash. The hotshot kid Raleigh had seen on TV hung back by his Jaeger, still dressed in his drivesuit.

“Max! Come here.” Mori called to the dog, excitement clear in her voice as she got down to her knees, setting her tablet aside. “Remember me?” Raleigh couldn't help his small smile at the sight, evidently there was more to Mori than met the eye, though her hair was as good as a warning beacon as to that fact.

Clearly the dog did, if the way his stubby tail whipped through the air was any indication. His owner tolerantly released his grip on the leash, allowing him to go to the girl for a good scratch, in what was evidently a regular thing, if the tolerant “Don't drool on Ms. Mori. He sees a pretty girl, gets all wound up.” from Herc was any sign.

“Raleigh, this is Hercules Hansen, an old friend from the Mark I glory days,” Pentecost introduced, not knowing that, in this case, introductions weren't necessary.

“I know you mate, we rode together before,” the Australian pilot said jovially, extending his hand to Raleigh for a shake.

“We did sir,” Raleigh said seriously, shaking the older pilot's hand. “Six years ago, my brother and I. It was a three Jaeger team drop.” Gipsy, Horizon Brave, and Herc's old Jaeger, Lucky Seven had all teamed up to stop the first Category IV to crawl it's way out of the Breach from ravaging Manilla. That had been a shitstorm of a battle: Horizon Brave had been nearly torn to bits, and had only been saved when Herc and his then-copilot Scott had thrown themselves at the beast, giving Gipsy time to take out the monster with her plasma cannons. That had been the worst kaiju battle since the beginning of the Jaeger program, at least until Knifehead.

“That's right, Manilla.” Herc agreed. His gaze shifted, familiar sympathy beginning to creep in like a poison tide. “I'm sorry about your brother.”

“Thank you sir.” Raleigh kept his reply short. It wasn't Herc's fault that too many people had offered him that same sympathy, even as he knew they didn't understand the full reach of his loss. Though Herc might have the best idea, given that something must have happened to Scott when Lucky Seven had gone down, but Raleigh wasn't privy to the details. The fact that Herc was now piloting with his son, not his brother, hinted that the story was big, but it hadn't been one that was ever shared with the media. And Scott was nowhere in evidence for some reason, though Raleigh thought he would have heard about it if the other man had died. It wasn't as if Jaeger pilots kept a low profile as a rule, and Scott in particular had loved the cameras. Much like his nephew seemed to do now.

Pentecost proved to be as good at reading between the lines as he'd always been, because he deftly changed the subject. “Hercules and his son Chuck'll be running point for you in Striker Eureka.” he said, nodding up to the massive Jaeger towering above them. Raleigh could see that she was in the process of getting checked over and rearmed, apparently, there hadn't been time to take care of it in Sydney, before she had been shipped to Hong Kong. “Fastest Jaeger in the world. First and last of the Mark V's. Australia decommissioned it a _day_ before the Sydney attack.”

“Yeah, lucky we were still around,” Herc commented darkly.

“Yep,” Pentecost said simply, his tone mild. “And now it's running point for us.”

Raleigh had had just about enough of the secrecy bullshit. “Wait, running point on what?” he asked Pentecost point-blank. He'd been patient, he'd waited to be told what was going on, what they needed him for, but he was getting tired of hints and misdirections. “You haven't told me what I'm doing here yet.” he reminded his commander.

Pentecost eyed him, clearly weighing just how much to tell him. Finally he answered, “We're going for the Breach, Mr. Becket. We're going to strap a 2,400 thermonuclear warhead to Striker's back. Detonate an equivalent of 1.2 million tons of TNT. And you, and two other Jaegers will be running defense with them.”

Raleigh had to raise his eyebrows at the audacity of the plan. And at the size of the proposed boom. “I thought we were the Resistance,” he commented lightly. “Where'd you get something that big?” Bombs that size weren't just lying around on the ground, even he knew that.

Pentecost raised his own eyebrows. “See the Russians back there? They can get us anything.” Which was a bit more than Raleigh wanted to know. Clearly dismissing Raleigh, Pentecost turned to Herc. “Herc, shall we?” he asked the older pilot, walking off with no more fanfare than that.

“Good to have you back.” Herc told Raleigh as he followed Pentecost away.

Raleigh watched them go, his thoughts going a mile a minute. Just a moment ago, he'd been focused on the size of the proposed bomb, but there was a _big_ problem with Pentecost's Grand Plan, one he knew the Marshal had to be aware of. It wouldn't matter how big the bomb to collapse the Breach was, if they couldn't get it in.

“I'll show you to your Jaeger now.” Mori broke into his thoughts, already turning to lead him away. But Raleigh had other plans.

“Ms. Mori.” he held out a hand to halt her. Once she'd turned to face him once more, he asked, “Will you give me a minute?”

She nodded, clearly wary of what he was about to do, even if she didn't know what it was. Nodding back in thanks, Raleigh strode after the two departing men. “Marshal!” he bellowed, letting Pentecost know he was coming.

Sure enough, both Herc and Pentecost had stopped a short distance away, waiting for him to catch up. When Raleigh reached them, he didn't give Pentecost time to reprimand him. “Sir, we've hit the Breach before. It doesn't _work_ , nothing goes through.” Gipsy, with Raleigh and Yancy inside her, had been part of two of those attempts. Both had ended in utter failure, as had every other attempt on the Breach Raleigh knew of. The bombs had never managed to penetrate the Throat, the entrance to the Breach. Pentecost _knew_ all that. “What's changed?” Because something must have. Pentecost wouldn't be considering this idea otherwise.

Pentecost pursed his lips, clearly deciding what to tell Raleigh and what to leave out. “I have a plan.” he said simply. “I need you ready. That's all.”

That told Raleigh precisely nothing. But he could tell that it was all he was going to get. With that, he returned to Mori's side, where she led him out of the main hangar bay, and into another one, where the Jaeger, _his_ Jaeger, was waiting for him.

~~~~~

The second hangar was running on half power, the lights low. Mori led Raleigh to an observation platform, to an elevator that lifted them high above the main floor, where the lights of welding torches and other equipment told Raleigh that the restoration work was still ongoing, even if the efforts here could barely hold a candle to the frenzy in the other room. The project had to be nearing completion, if the sense of accomplishment he sensed in those workers he passed was any judge. Not that long ago, he'd been one of those workers, down in the trenches, slogging away, Raleigh reflected. Now he was a pilot again.

The elevator stopped around the height where, Raleigh judged, the head of a Jaeger would rest once it was attached to the Conn-Pod cradle. Ducking sparks drifting down from overhead as she exited the elevator, Mori led the way, finally coming to a stop at the end of a short passage, and pointing the rest of the way. “There she is.” she said with pride.

Raleigh took two more steps, and felt his heart skip a beat. Two. He could have sworn he'd stopped breathing. “ _Oh_ ,” he sighed, his feet moving forward without his knowledge, until he fetched up against the railing protecting the unwary from a lethal fall, his hands curling automatically around the bars. “Oh my god. Look at her.” Raleigh couldn't believe his eyes. “Gipsy Danger.” Here and waiting for him, whole and unhurt, as if she had never left him. As if he'd never left her. “God, it's so beautiful.” Raleigh could hear Mori's brisk footsteps coming up beside him, but couldn't bring himself to tear his eyes away from the gorgeous Jaeger before him. But he had to say something, something to convey what this meant, to the person who had made it all possible. “She looks like new.”

Raleigh winced internally at how awkward that was, how that didn't convey a tenth of how he felt, but Mori acted like she didn't notice. “Better than new.” she said briskly, with an undercurrent of satisfaction at a job well done. “She has a double-core nuclear reactor.” a pause. “She's one of a kind now.” Mori finished.

Finally, Raleigh was able to turn his head, able to tear his eyes away from Gipsy. That last sentence, the quiet pride in it, was familiar. And Mori's face, when he saw it, held the same fierce devotion that he'd seen in every other pilot he'd met in regards to their Jaeger. Because piloting a Jaeger required more than just the Drift, you had to love them, you had to respect them, you had to near about worship them, until they transcended their origin as mere machines, and nearly became sentient. And Mori's face, the look in her eyes, showed all of that and more. Raleigh knew she understood what he meant when he told her, “She always was.”

She looked at him then, the faint awe from Gipsy's reflected glow still visible in the light of her eyes, the soft line of her jaw. Raleigh was abruptly profoundly grateful that Gipsy had been restored by someone who loved her, who had seen the ghost of who she had been before when she'd been nothing but a broken hulk in Oblivion Bay, who had taken her back, patched up her wounds, and made her strong again.

But just as he realized that, the moment between them was broken. “How do you like you ride, Becket Boy?” a familiar voice caroled behind them. Raleigh started at the sound, not only in surprise, but in recognition: he hadn't heard that voice since the Knifehead drop. “Solid iron hull, no alloys, forty engine blocks per muscle strand, hyper-torque driver for every limb and a new fluid synapse system.”

Raleigh turned around, and sure enough, Tendo Choi, Chief of LOCCENT Operations back at the Icebox and now apparently here, had come up behind them. No sign of his uniform, not all that surprising given that nearly everyone he'd met here bar Pentecost was in civvies. Instead Tendo was wearing a sport coat topped by a loud bowtie, the same kind he'd used to wear when he would meet Raleigh and Yancy at a local bar after shift, and get hit on by groupies. Despite its inherent tackiness, the bowtie had never seemed to slow Tendo down when he wanted a date.

Tendo opened his arms to Raleigh, easy grin welcoming him back. “Come here,” the other man said when Raleigh hesitated.

Relief flooding through him, Raleigh dropped his bags and gathered Tendo in the biggest bear hug he'd given...since he'd left the PPDC. “Tendo,” Raleigh laughed, clinging to the slighter man with everything in him. “It's good to see you,” he said eventually, when breathing became an issue and he had to let go.

“Good to see you too, brother.” Tendo responded, slapping Raleigh on the back. “It's just like old times.” Raleigh hoped, with all his heart, that that statement was true. He'd missed the old days, but knew that one vital element would always remain missing: Yancy. And without his brother, Raleigh didn't know what it meant to be _home_. Maybe, he could still find it.

~~~~~~

Eventually, Raleigh was able to tear himself away from Gipsy, and allowed Mori to show him to the room he'd be staying in. Standard pilot's quarters, but the single bed against the deployment screen that functioned as one wall shouldn't have been the punch to the gut it was. _It should be a bunk-bed,_ Raleigh couldn't help thinking _._ To cover his unease, Raleigh made himself walk right in and put his bags down, starting to unpack.

As he opened his kit bag and began rummaging through it for Yancy's photos – the dumb things his brother had insisted on plastering up in their room in every Shatterdome they were assigned to, and that Raleigh had been unable to get rid of since Yancy's death – Raleigh became conscious of the fact that Mori hadn't left, that she was still waiting just outside his door. “So what's your story?” he asked her, just to fill the empty silence and because he honestly wanted to know why she was here. She'd hovered on the edge of the circle when Pentecost had finally briefed him on what the fuck was going on, but hadn't made her presence obvious, as if she was unsure of her welcome in such company. Which didn't sit right with Raleigh at all for some reason. “Restoring old Jaegers, showing has-been's like me around, that can't be it.” he continued. Finding his photos, Raleigh turned back to her. “Are you a pilot?”

The question had been bugging Raleigh ever since he'd seen the way she looked at Gipsy. If Mori wasn't a pilot already, she should be. She already had the attitude of one.

For her part, Mori looked slightly embarrassed. “I am not.” she admitted. “But I want to be one, more than anything.” she hugged her tablet to her chest just a little tighter.

Raleigh had to smile at the enthusiasm in her voice. “What's your simulator score?” he asked, honestly curious.

Mori's smile had a satisfied edge. “51 drops...51 kills.”

Raleigh had to blink at the perfect record. His and Yancy's scores hadn't been that high when they'd been assigned to Gipsy. “Wow, that's amazing,” Raleigh admitted. It really was. And it made him wonder who her partners had been, because those machines were designed for two people. But for some reason, maybe because he'd have thought Pentecost would have mentioned it, Raleigh didn't think Mori herself was one of the candidates Mori had assembled for him the next day. “And you're not one of the candidates tomorrow?” he asked, wanting to be wrong.

Mori looked away. “I am not,” she admitted. “The Marshal has his reasons.”

Raleigh knew how that went. “Yeah, he always does.” he agreed. Of course, whether those reasons made sense to anyone besides Pentecost was always hit or miss, given the Marshal had never deigned to explain himself to anyone. “Well, with 51 kills, I can't imagine what those reasons could be.” Why Pentecost would barr someone so clearly talented with the situation so dire as to warrant calling Raleigh back into the fold...defied understanding.

Clearly uncomfortable with the discussion, Mori changed the subject. “I hope you approve of my choices,” she said briskly. “I've studied your fighting techniques and strategy, even...Alaska.” Mori fearlessly met Raleigh's eye at the last, letting him know without words that she was talking about his final drop, the one where he'd lost Yancy.

Raleigh knew where this was going. And he knew his part of the script. “And what do you think?” he prompted with a slight smile.

Mori paused, considering. “I think you're unpredictable.” she said finally. “You have a habit of deviating from standard combat techniques. You take risks that endanger yourself and your crew.” she stared him boldly in the face as she finished, “I don't think your the right man for this mission.”

Raleigh nearly buckled under the unexpected, unvarnished truth of her words. Instead he forced himself to swallow, ducking his head as he shoved down the angry words that wanted to erupt with the ease of four long years of practice. _Wow_. And, well, he'd asked for her opinion, hadn't he? He couldn't exactly be angry if she'd done what he asked, just because he couldn't take the truth when he heard it.

“Well, thank you for your honesty.” he said simply, returning her honesty with his own. “You might be right.” Raleigh couldn't deny the fact that he'd been a little shit back when he'd been a pilot. Yancy's death, and the shit he'd gotten himself into that first year on his own had made that fact more than clear. He had been reckless and stupid both back then, and it had gotten Yancy killed. Simple fact. He sighed, looking down at the photos in his hands, Yancy looking back at him from the top of the stack, Raleigh's own shit-eating grin aimed directly at the camera, their arms wrapped around each others shoulders. He flipped to another photo, unable to face down the cost of what he'd done any longer. Looking back at Mori, Raleigh continued. “But one day, when you're a pilot, you'll see that in combat, you make decisions.” He smiled at her then, and knew it was a broken attempt. “And you have to live with the consequences. That's all I'm trying to do.”

Not waiting for her reaction, Raleigh retreated back inside his room. He needed to clean up, he was still carrying a full coat of the grime that came with working on the Wall, and he wanted it off his skin in the worst way. Not to mention, during a refueling stop, Pentecost had called the 'dome quartermaster and ordered Raleigh some clothes that promised to actually fit, and supposedly, they'd already been delivered. Just because he had become used to wearing the same clothes over and over again until they fell apart on his body – sometimes even after if he remembered to patch them up before they completely disintegrated from a combination of hard work and the even harder soap available to Wall workers for laundry – but that didn't mean he actually liked it. The prospect of clean, new clothing was such an unbelievable luxury that it was all Raleigh could do to keep his composure at the thought.

The room's connecting head was just as he remembered it, small and cramped, not much more than a closet with toilet and sink. No shower, but from what he remembered, 'dome showers were all communal, and he didn't feel like facing anyone else just then. If that made him a coward, so be it. Raleigh didn't really need a shower to get off at least the surface layers of grime. He'd learned a long time ago that he didn't need to take up a lot of space to get clean.

As if he were still in the cramped prefab barracks the Wall housed workers in, Raleigh grabbed his soap, and stripped to the waist, separating his jacket, from his sweater, from the thin tank top he wore to keep the wool of the sweater from irritating his skin, with the ease of long practice. Taking up the undershirt, he soaked it, then soaped it, wiping it over his skin once he'd gotten a good lather going. Rinse the shirt, wipe off the soap, than repeat until he'd scrubbed his entire upper body, the process practiced until he had it down to under ten minutes. It cleaned the shirt as well, for a bonus. Thinking he might as well get fully unpacked, he wandered out into the main room, still wiping the last of the soap off his face.

It took a long moment for Raleigh to realize that he'd never closed the door after Mori had left him to get settled in. He had a watcher, he could feel it. Looking up, he saw Mori, watching from what had to be her own room, just across the corridor from his. She was staring at him, at his scars, still as red and angry as they had ever been, nearly five years after they had etched themselves into his flesh. The physical reminders of the consequences he bore every day of his life.

Or, Raleigh thought ruefully as Mori slammed her door shut, clearly mortified at being caught looking, she'd noticed the fact that he hadn't let himself go during the time he'd been away from the PPDC. In fact, he was in better shape than he'd ever been while he was active, construction work and his compulsive workouts – ragged attempts to exhaust himself enough to sleep – combined with the rations he'd been earning to leave not a spare ounce of fat on his person. All that was left was solid muscle. Her attention was flattering, to be sure, but Raleigh found that he would rather not be ogled if at all possible. It brought back too many memories of who he had been Before. Ambling up to the door, he closed it, firmly.

Turning to his unpacking, Raleigh had to shake his head. Mori was a mystery, just when he thought he had her pegged, she turned right around and surprised him. Raleigh found that he was grinning slightly, more pleased by the prospect than he had any right to be. If nothing else, the coming days sure would be interesting with her around. He was startled to realize he couldn't wait.

~~~~~

Clean, wearing fresh clothes provided by the quartermaster, the ID badge Pentecost had acquired for him clipped to his belt, Raleigh braved the crowds at the first Mess he found. And nearly decided that he wasn't hungry after all. Oh, everyone around him was talking and joking with their friends, but he could _feel_ everyone's eyes on him, and not all of them were friendly. Raleigh nearly wet himself when Sasha Kaidenosky curled herself protectively around her tall bear of a husband and bared her teeth at Raleigh as he passed their table. Careful not to run, he made tracks away from the crazy Russians and had just about decided that he'd eat later when it wasn't so crowded, when Herc Hansen called his name.

“Raleigh,” the older pilot hailed, coming down the stairs from what had to be the serving area, a tray of food in each hand. “Come sit with us.”

Raleigh tried to demur. “Oh, I'm okay, thank you...”

But Herc wouldn't take no for an answer. Shoving one of his two, fully loaded trays at Raleigh, he said, “Ah, come on, there's plenty of room at our table.”

What else could Raleigh do, but take the proffered tray and follow the senior pilot to what was evidently Striker Eureka's Mess territory, it was the only way to explain why it was so empty in the crowded room. Herc's current copilot was the only one sitting at the table, feeding scraps to his dog.

Unsure of what to say, Raleigh focused on the tray he was holding. “I haven't seen bread in a while,” he commented, nearly overwhelmed by there sheer _choice_ available on his tray. At the Wall, not even those on Red got this much variety in their meals

Herc waived it off. “Hong Kong.” he said airily as they took their seats. “Beauty of an open port, no rationing. We've got potatoes, peas, sweet beans, decent meatloaf. Pass the potatoes,” he added, and Raleigh passed him the dish of mashed spuds. Herc took a healthy scoop, then set the platter aside.

“Raleigh this is my son Chuck.” Herc introduced as they tucked into their meal. “He's my copilot now.”

“He's more _my_ copilot,” Chuck answered back, all of the smarmy arrogance Raleigh had heard on TV coming through full force. Well, that answered the question of what Chuck was really like. And while Raleigh had known all about media personalities, it looked like Chuck just showed his natural self before the cameras. Wonderful. “Right, Dad?” Chuck asked, one eyebrow raised at his father. Herc just glowered at his son before returning his attention to his food.

“So you're the guy, eh?” Chuck continued, leaning across the table to Raleigh. “You're the guy who's gonna run defense for me in that old rustbucket of yours?”

“That's the plan,” Raleigh returned as mildly as he could, squashing his instinctive reaction at having Gipsy called a 'rustbucket'. While it hurt, that didn't mean it hadn't been accurate before Mori had restored her. Still, there was a reason talking smack at another pilot's Jaeger had been against PPDC regs: it was the only way to keep fights from breaking out between the various crews. Chuck had evidently decided that those rules no longer applied.

“Good.” Chuck responded, slipping something to his dog under the table. “So,” the younger pilot continued, his voice still outwardly pleasant, “When's the last time you jockeyed, Ray?”

Raleigh froze for just the slightest instant, gathering his thoughts. “About five years ago.” he admitted. It would do no good to avoid the truth, not when the facts were doubtless widely known.

“What have you been doing for five years,” Chuck pressed. Not meeting Raleigh's gaze, the younger pilot continued, “Something pretty important, I reckon.”

Raleigh recognized the trap laid out before him, but he had to answer. “I was in construction.” he said finally, abandoning his fork and making it sound like he had been involved in rebuilding areas devastated by kaiju attack. The truth, he knew, would do nothing but invite scorn and contempt.

Too bad Chuck could read between the lines. “Oh, well, that's great.” the younger man said, his words bright with sarcasm. “That's really useful. We get into a fight, you can build your way out of it, eh Ray?”

Raleigh's gaze was locked with the asshole sitting across the table from him, his food forgotten. “It's _Raleigh_.” he said shortly, rejecting both the nickname, and the condemnation being offered.

Chuck didn't so much as twitch. “Whatever.” His gaze never wavered, never letting up on the pressure. Raleigh met him halfway, determined not to be the one to flinch first. “Look, you're Pentecost's bright idea.” Chuck continued after a moment. “And my old man, he seems to like you, but it's guys like you that brought down the Jaeger program. To me...” and here Chuck stood, “you're dead weight. You slow me down, I'll drop you like a sack of kaiju shit. I'll see you around, _Ra_ leigh.” Cramming a cap on his head, Chuck whistled for his dog. “Let's go Max!”

The bulldog waddled happily after his owner as he strutted from the Mess. Raleigh watched him go, unblinking, still wrestling with his temper. He was on thin ice already, and assholes like the one who had just left had a right to their opinion. He _had_ fucked up, he _had_ run, and now the cost of his mistakes were coming around to bite him in the ass. He had to shut up, and take his beating like a man, no matter how unfair he found it.

“You can blame me for that one,” Herc said after Chuck had left and Raleigh had returned to his food. “I raised him on my own. He's a smart kid, but I never knew whether to give him a hug or a kick in the ass.”

Raleigh put his fork down again. “With respect, sir,” he told Herc soberly, “I'm pretty sure which one he needs.” And it wasn't the former option. Hopefully, the Kwoon trials tomorrow would go smoothly, and he could start showing Chuck Hansen and all those who shared his opinion just how good a pilot he still was.

~~~~~

The Kwoon trials did not go smoothly. Raleigh knew his first opponent was outclassed within the first two blows, and it was child's play to take him down, finally knocking him to the floor with a sideswipe of his bo and presenting it at the man's throat. From where she stood with Pentecost, Mori said, “Four points to 0.”

The second one was mildly better, darting around the mat at the start, trying to disconcert Raleigh. Too bad for him the schoolyard bullies Raleigh had learned to fight on had shown more imagination. Staying calm, in control, Raleigh took him down easily as well, slamming him face first into the mat, his bo pinning him in place across his neck. Unable to help himself, Raleigh looked up at Mori, waiting for her judgment. Mori scowled at him, making a mark on her tablet. “Four points to one.”

The third was the best of the lot so far, but even so, Raleigh didn't have to struggle to end the match. He was doing his best to match them, trying to give them a chance to match him, but they were so far below his ability that he was blowing past them anyways. Had Mori thought he'd be completely rusty when she'd picked them? It sure seemed that way. Before long, guy number three was on his back, Raleigh's bo at his throat. “Four points to two.” Mori pronounced, her disdain clearly audible.

Raleigh felt his temper start to rise. It wasn't their fault that they were so clearly outmatched. Maybe if Raleigh hadn't found that discarded bit of pipe just about the size and weight of a standard bo his third week on the Wall, hadn't carried it with him from site to site, keeping in shape, keeping in practice, things would have been different. If anyone was to blame, it was Mori herself, for sending them in when they were clearly over-matched. “Okay, what?” he demanded, striding over to where Mori held court with Pentecost at her side. “You don't like them? I thought you selected them personally.”

Mori stared him down. “Excuse me?” she demanded.

Raleigh was more than happy to explain. “Every time a match ends you make this little...” he scrunched his face into his best approximation of her disgruntled look, “...gesture. Like you're critical of their performance.

Mori blinked, but recovered quickly enough. “It's not their performance, it's yours.” she shot back at him. “Your gambit, you could have taken them all out two moves earlier.”

Raleigh eyed her, speculation evident. “You think so.”

“I know so.”

Raleigh rocked back on his heels, startled, and more than a little annoyed. Last night she had criticized him for being too aggressive, too reckless; now, when he was actually showing some restraint, she was picking at him for not being aggressive _enough_. Was Mori _ever_ satisfied, Raleigh wondered.

Then an idea hit him. It was a wonderfully bad idea, one that – if everything worked out – would give everyone the best of all possible worlds. Mori wanted to be a pilot, wanted to pass judgment on him? Well, why not have her prove her ability to do so on the mat. And if nothing else, Raleigh would know if the tugs of attention he'd been feeling towards the woman meant anything, in the Conn-Pod, or out of it.

“Can we change this up?” Raleigh asked Pentecost. Pointing his bo at Mori, he continued, “How 'bout we give her a shot.”

Mori was clearly enthusiastic about the idea, but Pentecost evidently, was not. Giving Mori a firm “No.” he turned back to Raleigh. “Stick to the cadet list we have Ranger.” the Marshal said firmly, speaking to the whole room. “Only candidates with Drift compatibility –“

“Which I have, Marshal.” Mori pleaded, interrupting his speech to make her case,

Pentecost lowered his voice, but not so much Raleigh couldn't hear him. “Mako, this is not only about a neural connection. It's also about a physical compatibility –“

Raleigh had heard just about enough. And he knew the best way to make this happen. “What's the matter, Marshal,” he drawled, making the taunt obvious. “Don't think your brightest can cut it in the ring with me?”

It worked, just as Raleigh knew it would. Pentecost took charge of Mori's tablet, motioning her forward with a small headshake. For her part, as she stripped of her boots, socks, and outer shirt, folding them neatly and collecting her weapon, Mori bore the slightest of sneers on her face, as if she was already seeing his body splayed out on the mat. Raleigh only raised his eyebrows at her, projecting his own confidence back at her.

“Remember, it's about compatibility,” he reminded her as they crossed each other on the mat. “It's a dialogue, not a fight, but I'm not going to dial down my moves.”

Mori reached her position, and turned to face him “Okay,” she said easily. “Then neither will I.” As Raleigh watched, she stepped into the Challenger's kata, whipping her bo around in the aggressive form. Raleigh met her challenge with the Defender's slower, but powerfully precise strokes. They edged closer together, eyes fixed on each other, every muscle primed for action, waiting, waiting...Raleigh moved, and Mori moved _with_ him, stepping _into_ his strike, boldly staring him down as his bo hovered less than an inch above her forehead.

Raleigh...hadn't expected that. But he refused to let it shake him. “One, Zero,” he told her, giving their score.

Mori counterattacked, batting aside Raleigh's weapon to reverse their positions. “One, One.” she corrected, backing off.

Raleigh smiled briefly at her, starting to warm to this match, and smoothly swung his bo up to score against her left side, before she was expecting it. “2-1” he told her mildly. “Concentrate.” _You wanted me to take every available opening_? he questioned. _You'll get it_.

A flurry of strikes and blocks later, Mori took the next point. With her bo just brushing Raleigh's jaw, she informed him, “2-2. Better watch it.” before backing off. Both of them edged away from each other, switching grips around on their weapons. These first few points had been about gaining the measure of their opponent, now was the time for the real match to begin.

They moved as one, back and forth, strike and counter-strike, until Mori – _Mako_ – got in a lucky strike, catching Raleigh's weapon with her own, unbalancing him enough to send him to his knees on the mat, Mako's bo kissing his throat. “3-2” she told him breathlessly. Raleigh could only stare at her, hunger, anticipation, arousal coursing through his blood. Even going at it with Yancy in the Kwoon, he hadn't felt like this, hadn't felt this level of connection, of immediacy. He wanted more.

“Mori-san. More control.” Pentecost rapped out in Japanese behind them. Raleigh almost didn't hear the Marshal's words, too wrapped up in the miracle standing over him, now backing up just enough to allow him to get to his feet.

Raleigh took the next point, after another exhilarating moment of complete unity, grabbing Mako's shoulder and hurling her over his hip, his bo coming up to tap her jaw as she lay sprawled. He didn't need to give the score count, they could both hear it in their minds. _3-3_. Whoever scored next would win the match. Mako lifted her chin as she took her stance, making it perfectly clear she intended that point to be hers. Raleigh only grinned at her as he took his own stance, telling her to take her best shot.

They moved, back and forth across the mat, almost seeming to dance, each strike blocked before it could be completed, each move counted before it could begin. The energy between them was a living thing, as strong as it had ever been with Yancy as Mako went down low, and Raleigh hopped neatly over her weapon. But it seemed that she had his measure now, for when she tried it again, she pulled her bo up sharply as he went over it, hooking it behind his leg and yanking hard enough to send him crashing to the mat. Raleigh hit with a thud, flat on his back, his right leg held at an awkward angle thanks to the hold Mako was using.

“Enough!” Pentecost called, breaking the spell that bound the two of them into their own world, reminding them both that there were spectators in the room. Mako released Raleigh's leg, and went to bow properly before Pentecost. “I've seen what I need to see.” the Marshal finished.

“Me too,” Raleigh agreed, climbing to his feet and placing a proprietary hand on Mako's waist. “She's my copilot.”

Mako turned to stare at him, startled, as if she'd forgotten why they were holding trials in the first place. Raleigh stared back at her, every nerve singing in a way he had never expected it to do so again. Compatible pilots were rare, so rare that, despite the vast hordes desperate for the chance at a Conn-Pod, only the smallest fraction made it in. Finding a second pilot for a broken paring took those extraordinarily slim odds and made them astronomical.

But Pentecost punctured that euphoria with a few, well-chosen words, leaving the two of them gutted on the mat. “I'm afraid that's not going to work.” the Marshal said shortly.

Raleigh couldn't believe his ears. He knew what he'd just experienced, knew what it signified. Just as he knew that everyone in the room understood what it meant. And he _knew_ that there wasn't anyone on the list of Mako's prepared candidates that could come close to what he'd felt with her. “Why not?” he challenged, indignant at having his promised copilot wrenched away.

“Because I said so, Mr. Becket.” Pentecost was unmoved. “I've made my decision. Report to the Shatterdome in two hours, find out who your copilot will be.” With that, the Marshal turned and left, the matter clearly not up for further debate, despite the way it shattered all Raleigh had left to be certain about.

Confused, and a little hurt, Raleigh automatically turned to Mako, looking for support. She had to have felt the same thing he did, hadn't she? But Mako avoided his gaze, slinking off the mat to collect her things as the crowd that had come to watch the tests broke up, leaving him alone and abandoned there.

Chuck Hansen abruptly loomed out of the vanishing crowd, smirk plastered over his face. Raleigh stared back at him, more than a little irritated by his presence, wondering when he'd arrived. That sensation was only amplified when Mako slipped past the other pilot carrying her things, her head down, and her manner furtive. There was some kind of history between the two of them, between Mako and Chuck, Raleigh realized, but what that meant he had no clue. And what that history, if anything, had to do with why Pentecost wouldn't let Mako Drift with him.

~~~~~

Once everyone had left, Raleigh threw on his clothes, and gathered up his pack, racing to catch up to Mako. He found her in the corridor just outside their rooms, doing up her boots. “Mako,” he panted, both from his mad dash to find her, and his excitement. “What was that about?” Why had Pentecost flatly forbidden her to try? It didn't make sense. He kept pushing forward, ending up trapping her against one of their doors. “I mean, I'm not crazy. You felt it, right?” Raleigh gestured at the space between them, indicating the energy that had flowed between them during their match. “We are Drift-compatible.”

Mako looked stunned at his sheer energy, which...wasn't all that surprising. Yancy had grumbled more than once that Hurricane Raleigh could steamroll over everything in his path when he got going, but no one could blame him because of how cute he was doing it. But she managed to hold her ground regardless. “Thank you for standing up for me,” she said clearly. “But there is nothing to talk about.”

Raleigh fought the disappointment he felt as she turned away from him, disappointment that turned to amusement when he realized the room she was trying – and failing – to enter was his own. “That's my room,” he told her, just managing to keep the laughter out of his voice. It wasn't funny, not really, just another indication of how compatible they were, that she instinctively sought out his room as refuge.

At the door, Mako froze, clearly embarrassed. Raleigh knew he had the worst look of puppy-dog adoration on his face as she brushed past him with a brusque “Excuse me”, but he couldn't help himself.

He followed her up to her own door, saying, “Come on, I thought you wanted to be a pilot.” 'More than anything' were the words she'd used, and now that the opportunity had come, she wasn't going to fight for it? Raleigh couldn't believe it. “Mako, this is worth fighting for.” he reminded her. Grasping at straws, he continued, “We don't have to just obey him.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, Raleigh knew he'd made a mistake. Sure enough, Mako turned to face him again, but it wasn't to agree with him, it was in clear reprimand. “It's not obedience, Mr. Becket,” Mako said clearly, determination in her set expression. “It's respect.”

He didn't get it, he knew that. Not the way she did. But Raleigh did understand that there were boundaries Mako clearly would _not_ cross, and defying Pentecost was obviously one of them. And if he wanted her to be his copilot, he had to respect what boundaries she set, and thus, respect her. That was the only way it worked in the Conn-Pod. He nodded, accepting the rebuke.

Satisfied, Mako turned away from him. Desperate, trying one last time to change her mind, Raleigh asked, “Would you at least tell me what his problem is?” Because he really couldn't see it. Her academic scores, her physical compatibility with his own, her obvious love for Gipsy, all of that made her the obvious, _only_ choice. There had to be something he was missing. If she knew what it was...

Mako didn't answer, merely shut the door in his face. As Raleigh retreated to his own door, he heard her lock engage. Letting himself into his room, Raleigh dropped his pack on the floor, half-collapsing onto his bed. Leaning against the deployment screen that functioned as one of the walls, Raleigh had to shake his head. If Mako wasn't his copilot, he didn't know who else Pentecost had in mind. None of the candidates he'd tested with had come remotely close to matching him. There was only Mako. She was the only option.

But apparently, she was forbidden to him.

~~~~~

Eventually, Raleigh took the opportunity to take a proper shower, braving the communal space to wash away the sweat from he'd accumulated during the Kwoon trials, as well as any lingering grime from the Wall. When he'd returned to his room, he tuned the deployment screen to PPDN, letting the news of riots all along the Pan-Pacific region over the failure of the Wall of Life in Sydney fill his room, mindless noise to quiet the thoughts that swirled uselessly around in his head as he dressed.

Finally, twenty minutes from the start of the neural tests to determine his ability to sync with his new copilot, Raleigh exited his room, but not before saying goodbye to Yancy's picture. For better or worse, Yancy was his past, and he had a new copilot now, whoever Pentecost had deigned to assign him. Crossing the corridor, he moved to knock on Mako's door, wanting just one more chance at persuading her to make a go of it with him. But just as he was about to knock, a group of techs passed by, and he hesitated. While he didn't care who saw him, Raleigh would not expose Mako to more gossip than he'd already done. He knew how fast Shatterdome rumor mills worked, knew the conclusions they regularly drew. Not to mention, Mako had already made herself perfectly clear: she would not defy Pentecost's judgment, not even for something she had wanted with everything in her.

And to be honest, it would break something in Raleigh if she were to refuse him again. He knew it would. Not able to bear the prospect, he moved off. If he didn't hurry, he'd be late reporting to the drivesuit room, and hold up the test. He had to follow Mako's example, and trust that Pentecost knew what he was doing when he had denied Mako her chance.

~~~~~

The techs in the drivesuit room were happy to see him, if a little confused that he showed up alone. Several of them asked where Mako was, clearly they'd been watching the Kwoon trials and knew she was the strongest candidate by far. Raleigh had no answers for their questions. He hugged those techs who had been with him in Anchorage, shook hands with the rest, and cooperated as they helped him into the circuitry undersuit and strapped him into the armor. Unlike the armor he'd worn before, this set was coal-black, seemingly new, but Raleigh's experienced eye caught several signs of wear, of repairs and new patches. This armor had been recycled from a previous pilot, more than likely, a pilot that was now dead.

Raleigh shoved the thought from his mind. Whoever had worn this armor before him, he or she wouldn't be the first ghost to ride on his back. Yancy had marked his territory as soon as Knifehead had killed him, and Raleigh was used to the weight. After he left the drivesuit room, the techs assigned to Gipsy showed him around the refurbished Conn-Pod, pointing out the changes, explaining the features of the upgraded OS Mako had built and installed. Finally, Raleigh asked for some time alone.

Looking at the left hand harness as the techs filed out, Raleigh shuddered. He couldn't handle taking that side, could already feel the twinges of the phantom pain that had seared him when Knifehead had cut off Gipsy's arm. _No_. He'd take the right hand seat.

Stepping behind the harnesses, Raleigh hit several switches, activating the test functions, shunting readouts to LOCCENT control, allowing Tendo and his crew more direct control of Gipsy's functions in case anything went wrong. Once that was done, and the harnesses lowered for deployment, Raleigh got on the radio to LOCCENT, reporting in. “Configuring harness for test mode, waiting for second pilot.”

No sooner had he finished speaking, than he heard the distinctive sound of drivesuit boots clanking on the floor of the Conn-Pod. His copilot, it had to be. “I'm going to take this side if you don't mind,” Raleigh said to the air, not looking at whoever Pentecost had picked. “My left arm's kind of shot.” It was the kind of excuse no one who knew his history would question.

“Sure,” Mako answered easily. Startled by the sound of her voice, Raleigh turned, and stared. There she was, dressed in armor to match his own, the blue streaks in her hair standing out in bright contrast to the darkness of her armor and hair.

Raleigh...hadn't expected her. Hadn't expected Pentecost to relent. But he was glad, so very glad that she was here, in the Conn-Pod with him. She looked...strong, powerful, _right_ , so clearly in her element that Raleigh was hard-pressed to picture her anywhere else. The relief he felt at the sight of her nearly brought him to his knees.

“Are you going to say anything?” Mako asked, the smallest thread of uncertainty in her voice.

Raleigh shook his head slightly, coming back to himself. “No point,” he said easily. “In five minutes, you're going to be inside my head.”

Raleigh could have kicked himself when Mako abruptly looked nervous, and he was reminded of the fact that she'd never done this before. That they'd only met recently. That she was trusting herself to a stranger. Groping for something to reassure her, Raleigh finally said, “You look good.”

It seemed to work. Mako straightened her shoulders, just as the technicians returned to get them strapped in and seal the Conn-Pod prior to deployment. Once they were strapped in, Tendo engaged the Drop, sending them down forty feet onto Gipsy's cradle.

Raleigh whooped at the familiar sensation, reveling in the exhilaration of it the same way he'd always done. Beside him, Mako clearly didn't feel the same way, if the way she clutched convulsively at her restraints and squeezed her eyes tightly shut was any indication. He smiled sympathetically at her once they'd landed, and were screwing into place. Once that was completed, and the countdown to the neural handshake had begun, Raleigh spoke up.

“We're not in a simulator now, Mako.” he reminded her. It was the standard lecture, repeated to the point of nausea at the Academy. And all new pilots got the same talk just before they Drifted for the first time, no matter how many times they'd heard it before, just to reinforce the conditioning. It was only right that Raleigh preformed the service for Mako. “Remember, don't chase the RABIT. Random Access Brain Impulse Triggers. Memories. Just let 'em flow, don't latch on. Tune them out. Stay in the Drift. The Drift, is silence.”

She caught his eye, nodding. But they were out of time, the countdown reached zero, and the Drift was initiated.

– _Two boys, Raleigh and his brother Yancy, age six and nine, making snow angels, chasing each other across the park, laughing in that innocent way of children everywhere – Mako in the family dojo, her father presenting her with her very own bokken for her seventh birthday, waving it around with glee – Mako in school, studying hard, applying herself in the way few of her fellow students were – Drawings and equations, childish scrawls of robots and monsters, before the world knew what monsters really looked like – Mako and her father, him picking her up after school when he ought to have been in the forge – Raleigh and his father, asking why they had to move again, he'd just made friends here, and they never even made fun of him, his father explaining in terms seven-year old Raleigh could understand, holding Raleigh close – Raleigh and Yancy, older, on 'patrol' in an abandoned Budapest factory, Yancy bolstering Raleigh's fading courage – A burning car, and Mako crying for her mother over and over again – Yancy screaming at Raleigh to listen to him – The Becket boys, now full-fledged Jaeger jockeys drinking in a bar, the two of them downing shots of dirt-cheap scotch that the manufacturer had somehow convinced the PPDC to endorse– Mako in the rain, under an umbrella, looking at – Raleigh himself, holding another umbrella and looking so unlike Mako had expected him – Mako and her parents, the two of them dressing Mako in her first kimono for her formal presentation at the local shrine – Mako in the sand garden, raking a new design among the stones – Raleigh, Yancy, and some friends from their latest school playing with marbles, Raleigh lying on his stomach for a better angle –_

The outside world surged back into focus, the inner world of the Drift still running in the background between them, Mako gasping at the shocking immediacy of the sensation. Raleigh sympathized, he knew there was no way to prepare prospective pilots for exactly how intimate the Drift could be, how much of what made you _you_ was shared. Words fell utterly short when it came to describing the Drift, how it touched you, changed you, how it was impossible to fight. The only way the neural handshake worked was with the complete surrender of all boundaries, all mental barriers. Until you, your copilot, and your Jaeger were one.

Raleigh felt Mako's childlike curiosity fill the Drift, cautiously exploring the new environment. He let her poke around where she wished, opening every door to his psyche she expressed the slightest curiosity in for her, welcoming her in. And in return, he treasured every little bit Mako allowed him to see in return. Her thoughts were full of amazement, telling him that she had studied the Drift, trying to pick apart how it worked, but nothing in her studies had prepared her for the sheer intensity of the experience. Raleigh pulsed a bit of reassurance towards her, not pushing or prying for her intimate secrets, letting her drive the Drift, letting her share how much she wanted to share. He wanted her to feel safe with him, the way he'd always felt safe with Yancy, and the only way he knew how to do that, was to give her control.

After an endless heartbeat of simple sharing, it was time to get to work. Gipsy was due for her full physical and weapons checks after her restoration, and that was why they were here, in the Conn-Pod for this test, not in a lab hooked up to a test PONS, which was the way it worked at the Academy.

Raleigh turned his right hand, palm up, seeming to regard it as Mako moved with him. Right hemisphere: calibrated. Mako did the same with her left palm, as Raleigh moved with her. Left hemisphere: calibrated. Then they moved smoothly into a defensive stance.

The kata to run a Jaeger's physicals checks was still embedded in his bones, despite the length of time it had been since he'd last run them. And Mako had evidently been studying up, knowing the moves well enough to catch and correct Raleigh the few times he'd slipped up, shifting his stance ever so slightly through the Drift that none of the observers outside noticed the slight fumbles. They moved smoothly from stance to stance as they moved through the sequence, finally finishing with the decidedly unorthodox move Raleigh had added to the standard set with Yancy, crashing one fist into the other palm in a challenging manner. Raleigh could feel Mako's surge of satisfaction matching his own as their eyes met and –

– _felt the shock of rain on his face-shield, staring up in horror at the massive hole that had been ripped right through Gipsy's hull to his right. He looked to his left, seeing Raleigh's terrified face, looking impossibly young. He knew in his bones what was going to happen next, and he didn't want to die, was so fucking scared but tried to tamp it down because Raleigh would feel it_ _too_ – Raleigh, listen to me – _Yancy, gone, torn away through the hole in Gipsy's hull, leaving a matching gash in his head, his heart, his soul, the aching emptiness that half-convinced Raleigh that he had died as well, screaming at the top of his voice, calling for Yancy, begging him to answer, trying to deny what had just happened, no, no, nononononoNOOOOOOOOOOO –_

Tendo, on the radio from LOCCENT, calling to him, speaking from the present, not the past. “ _–psy, Gipsy, you are out of alignment! You are both out of alignment!”_

“I'm okay,” Raleigh managed to gasp out, clawing his way back to reality. “Just let me control it.” he breathed deeply once, twice, thrice, trying to bring his breathing back under control.

The worry in Tendo's tone didn't abate. “ _You're stabilizing, but Mako is way out. She's starting to chase the RABIT._ ”

Raleigh felt his blood turn to ice. _No_. But when he turned to look at her, he knew it was the truth. Her gaze was fixed on an unknown point, her mind blank to his touch, narrowed to a sharp focus that cut him out entirely. She was moving beyond his reach, and he had to pull her back, back into the present with him. “Mako,” he called to her, both speaking aloud and sending the words, the sentiment, through the Drift, trying to break her out of her trance. Or at least, break into whatever nightmare held her captive, and take her home with him. “Mako, don't get stuck in a memory. Stay with me, stay in the now. Don't engage in the memory...” words that had been drilled into him, in the Academy, and in his career in the PPDC. “Mako! Mako listen to me...” she was fading farther, sliding deeper into her past. Raleigh went after her, setting an anchor to hold part of his consciousness in the present, while the rest followed fearlessly after his copilot, to whatever horrors awaited him, awaited _them_ , there.

– _Raleigh emerged into a dead-end alleyway, where a little girl, only eleven years old, crouched fearfully behind a dumpster, sobbing hopelessly, helplessly, clearly scared out of her mind. Her bright blue coat stood out in sharp relief against the gloomy, gray surroundings, ash gently falling from the sky, a red shoe clutched in two small hands._

Mako, it had to be, _the part of Raleigh's mind that remained aloof from it all recognized. This was her memory, so who else could it be? But where were her parents? What was happening to make her so afraid?_

_He crouched down, despite knowing that she was unlikely to recognize him, or even react to his presence._ “Mako,” _he called to her,_ “This is just a memory. None of this is real.” _He had to try._

_She only huddled deeper into her pitiful shelter, sobs shuddering to a terrified halt as massive footsteps shook the ground, stopping just outside the alley where she had taken refuge. She dropped the shoe she had been clutching so convulsively, her fingers going lax from sheer terror. Raleigh felt it too as some massive...thing outside the ally roared, and stomped closer, until it was right outside._

_Kaiju. It had to be, nothing else was that big. Abruptly, Raleigh realized what was happening, when this was. May 15, 2016, the Category II kaiju Onibaba had managed to evade the Jaeger Tacit Ronin, making it ashore in Tokyo and killing nearly a half million people before Coyote Tango, another Jaeger, brought it down. It had been just before Raleigh had joined the Academy, and had been a feature of several lectures, given that it had been the last time a kaiju had reached the heart of a major city and caused major devastation and loss of life. Raleigh hadn't known there had been a survivor before._

_Onibaba knew they – Mako – were there, because it lunged for her, for them. Mako-chan screamed and darted out from cover into the monster's path, her hands held before her in futile defense._

But the part of Raleigh that was watching from the present saw that Mako mirrored the gesture in real life, and Gipsy responded, bringing to life the right-hand plasma cannon. Inside the Shatterdome. With everyone who had come to watch the test standing at point-blank range.

_Raleigh could feel the panic washing through his physical self, heard it in his own voice as he tried again to reach Mako._ “Mako!” _he was screaming now, wishing he could reach out and shake the child she'd been to rouse her from the nightmare, keep her from causing a second one._ “Mako, listen to me. This is just a memory. None if it is real.”

_No effect. Onibaba managed to get a claw into the alley, reaching for the prey just out of reach, the massive digit flattening the dumpsters she had been sheltering behind until they lay flush against the wall. Mako-chan backed up, too scared to scream anymore, and Raleigh moved with her, wanting to grab her up and take her away, but knowing his touch in this environment would be of even less use than his voice had been._

_Something massive moved overhead, the sound of multiple rotors audible even over Onibaba's roars. Mako-chan and Raleigh looked up as one to catch a brief glimpse of Coyote Tango – it had to be – being moved into position, before the Jaeger passed beyond the field of vision afforded by the narrow alley._

_Raleigh knew the instant the kaiju spotted it's new target, as the massive creature promptly forgot about them, and turned to face it's new opponent. The battle that ensured was horrendously loud, booms and crashes interspersed with the kaiju's roars. It seemed to go on forever while Raleigh tried fruitlessly to soothe the frantic child his copilot had been, her fear and distress at being so close to ground zero of a kaiju - Jaeger battle finally piercing the shell of logic that had kept him from trying to directly interfere before. It didn't do any good. None of his attempts garnered the slightest reaction from the girl in his ghostly arms._

_Eventually, the noise stopped, and the ruined city quickly became unnaturally silent. After a moment to be sure the coast was clear, Mako-chan picked up her abandoned shoe and made her way out of the alley, into the city beyond._

_Following, Raleigh could only stare. Where once there had been buildings, skyscrapers and neat streets, now there was only rubble, with the still-falling ash laying a dull gray coat over everything. Onibaba was on its back, clearly dead, deadly kaiju blue coating what was left of the corpse._

_Coyote Tango was at the other end of the way, towards the setting sun._. _As Raleigh watched, as Mako-chan feasted her eyes on the Jaeger that saved her life, a hatch opened, and one of the pilots climbed onto the massive metal skull, then took of the helmet. Raleigh could feel his mouth dropping open, as a younger Stacker Pentecost looked down at the child who had survived against all odds, the survivor who should not have been there. Mako's feelings surged through Raleigh, too strong to only relate to this one incident. There was history there, lots of it, woven through with love, and protectiveness, respect, and filial duty, bright shinning threads that spun through a pattern Raleigh was only just beginning to comprehend._

But there wasn't time to contemplate it further. The Drift collapsed without warning, Gipsy powering down around them. Raleigh shrugged out of his harness, pitched his helmet away, and sprinted across the Conn-Pod to be in position for what he knew was coming. Sure enough, Mako's eyes rolled up in her head as she collapsed, Raleigh just in time to catch her with his good arm, tugging off her helmet as he gently lowered her to the floor.

Raleigh cradled Mako to him with one arm, holding her close, yet respecting her strength. She was stronger than he'd ever realized, that she'd overcome such profound tragedy, and built a life for herself. “It's okay...you're okay.” he told her, over and over again, until he felt her start to come round.

“You were there.” she told him, after a long moment of silence.

“Yeah, I was.” Raleigh readily admitted, more relieved than he wanted to admit that she'd registered his presence in her memory, despite the way she hadn't been able to respond while in it's grip. “I saw it all. You were so brave, you didn't need my help after all.” Raleigh felt himself pause, then changed the subject. “I'm so sorry Mako,” he continued, despair and contrition aching through his voice. “I was the one who screwed things up for us, I was the one who dragged our nightmares up from their graves to drown us...” he felt his voice fade away, but didn't try to continue, just held her to him, until the techs came to let them out of the Jaeger.

~~~~~

Nearly thirty minutes later, both Raleigh and Mako waited outside Pentecost's office, like naughty schoolchildren called to see the Headmaster. Despite that being a regular occurrence when Raleigh was growing up, between the constant fights and the frequent transfers, he couldn't settle, still too keyed-up from the adrenaline rush of the failed test. In clear contrast, Mako held herself still, her back ramrod straight as she waited for Pentecost's judgment.

“ _...She can't control her Drift, and_ he _went out phase first!_ ” Right. That was the other reason Raleigh couldn't relax. Chuck Hansen was in the Marshal's office, ranting so loudly as to be clearly audible through the thick walls and metal door. “ _She's a rookie, he's a has-been. I don't want them tainting_ my _bomb run!_ ”

Raleigh wasn't surprised to find the younger pilot ejected into the corridor after that last salvo with a warning from Pentecost to watch his tone ringing in his ears, and his father standing menacingly at the door. “Hey, stay there,” Herc ordered his son. “Give me a moment.” Then he shut the door in Chuck's face.

Chuck snarled to himself, but obeyed. Raleigh, who had moved automatically to flank Mako, saw the moment Chuck realized they were there, and – like a shark scenting blood in the water – immediately moved in to attack.

“You two are a goddamn disgrace,” the younger man seethed as he stalked toward them. While Raleigh could see Chuck's point, that didn't keep him from returning the other pilot's glare in equal measure. First Drifts between two people who had no common memories to anchor the experience went south more often than not. Chuck had to know that. Add the obvious trauma the two of them had undergone, and you had a recipe for disaster.

But of course, that wasn't the problem, and Raleigh knew it. It was the stakes at hand, the all-or-nothing gambit to drop a bomb down the Breach, with humanity itself at stake. Sure enough, Chuck continued his rant, focusing his venom on Raleigh, “You're going to get us all killed, and here's the thing _Ra_ leigh,” he sneered, stretching out the first syllable of Raleigh's name mockingly, “I want to come back from this mission. Because, I quite like my life.” Raleigh uncharitably thought that it couldn't be his relationship with his father that Chuck enjoyed so much about living, which meant that it had to do with the fame and glory that was part of being a Ranger. Raleigh knew all about how heady it was to be a hero, knew just how quickly it could go to your head. It was only after he'd left the PPDC that Raleigh had realized just how hollow it all had been. Chuck evidently hadn't yet learned that lesson. “So why don't you,” and here the younger man reached out and casually flicked Raleigh hard, and insultingly in the chest, meeting Raleigh's renewed glare fearlessly,“just do us all a favor and disappear? It's the only thing your good at.”

“Stop! Now!” Mako burst out, her protective streak roused in his defense. Raleigh didn't look at her, not taking his eyes from the smirking asshole before them, just raised a gentle hand to knock against her shoulder, keeping her back. Raleigh knew Chuck had a point, and he also knew their position was precarious enough right now, without adding a fistfight in the halls to the mix. Better to bleed this poison out with words, than risk putting a fellow pilot in the Infirmary, with kaiju due at any time.

Of course, that was before Chuck opened his mouth again. “Yeah, that's right, hold back your little girlfriend.” he sneered. Glancing meaningfully at Mako, he continued, “One of you bitches needs a leash.”

Raleigh felt a surge of pure _fury_ boil down his veins, jolting him into action. One, two, three blows and Chuck was staring up at him from the ground, knocked onto his behind from sheer surprise and massaging his jaw. Raleigh had to blink himself, surprised at his own reaction. Then he mentally shrugged. _What the hell_. Out loud he said, “Apologize to her.” Raleigh made sure his body language promised what was going to happen if Chuck refused.

Too bad he ignored the warning. “Screw you,” Chuck snarled, surging forward into an attack, too maddened by fury to think about mounting a proper offense, never mind an effective defense. The corner of Raleigh's mind not occupied by Chuck, noticed Mako standing to one side – hands already balled into fists and feet already circling – as she looked for an opening. _I've got this,_ Raleigh reached out along the fragile line that connected them, unsure if she could hear him as he continued backing Chuck into a corner. _Bastard has been giving me nothing but grief since I got here. I need to be the one to put him in his place._

There was no telling if she heard, or agreed with the sentiment even if she did – the Ghost Drift affected every pilot pairing differently – but Mako backed down regardless. Raleigh allowed his full attention to return to the fight as Chuck slammed him into a concrete pillar, but before the younger man could capitalize on the advantage, Raleigh turned the tables, swinging Chuck around and shoving him into one of the pipes that lined the corridor, hard enough to dent the metal and release a cloud of steam.

Chuck cried out, massaging the arm that had borne the brunt of the impact, but was otherwise intact. Raleigh didn't drop his guard as he backed up. “I said, apologize to her.” He repeated, his voice steady.

Chuck didn't answer this time, just lunged. As he did so, Raleigh felt reflexes that were definitely not his own kick into gear, one hand slipping past Chuck's guard to slap insultingly at his neck, the other – using the split second of inattention that distraction had brought – grabbed hold of Chuck's wrist and gave a quick tug, jerking him off balance. Then, he kicked at Chuck's knee to unbalance him further, while his other leg curled up and over Chuck's arm as he crumpled, bringing the captured arm up behind his back in an arm bar. If Chuck knew enough to not struggle in the hold, he would walk away from this with only a few bruises. If not...well, that would be his responsibility if he chose not to cooperate.

“Hey, hey! _Enough!_ What's going on?” Herc, it seemed, had become wise to the fact that there was a brawl occurring just outside the Marshal's office and had come to break it up. “On your feet, the both of ya!”

Recognizing the command, Raleigh immediately dropped Chuck's captive arm, and pushed himself to his feet, stepping back, though he wasn't stupid enough to take his eyes off Chuck. Raleigh had gotten into enough schoolyard scrapes to know that a bully was at his most dangerous after he'd been humiliated, which Chuck definitely had been. He'd take his first opportunity to attack, and Raleigh had to be ready.

But Pentecost had come out of his office by then, and called a halt to the proceedings. “Becket, Mori, into my office,” the Marshal ordered.

Raleigh took a moment to toss one final glare Chuck's way, before he turned to follow Pentecost away. And nearly turned right back around, because idiot that Chuck was, he wanted to continue the dance. “No, we aren't finished,” he snarled, trying to charge Raleigh again.

Herc caught him before he could connect. “Hey, this is over!” he growled at his son. “You're a Ranger for chrissake, why don't you start acting like one?” Chuck snarled at the insult, but subsided. By the time Raleigh reached the steps to Pentecost's office, the younger pilot was gone.

~~~~~

Once they were in Pentecost's office, Raleigh took full responsibility for their screw-up. “I went out of phase first.” It was a matter of record, Raleigh didn't see any point in hiding that fact. “It was my mistake –“

“No,” Pentecost broke in. “It was mine.” He stared at the two pilots seated in his office, his expression blank. “I should never have let you two in the same machine.”

Raleigh leaned back in his chair, mentally daring Pentecost to do his worst. The Marshal needed Gipsy for whatever his Grand Plan was, which meant he needed _them_. “So what? You're grounding us?” he asked, not thinking Pentecost would go through with it.

Pentecost's eyes flashed fire. “Not you.” he said precisely. To Raleigh's shocked horror, his glance flicked meaningfully at Mako.

She crumpled. There was no other word for it. But she fought to hold it together. Slowly, Mako rose to her feet, her eyes already brimming with tears. “Permission to be dismissed, sir.” she asked, her voice shaking despite her best efforts to control herself.

Pentecost paused – not to draw this out, Raleigh judged, but to gain control of himself – before he answered. “Permission granted, Ms. Mori.”

Mako bowed jerkily, than fled. Raleigh called after her, but she barely paused to glance at him before she was gone. Raleigh wanted to go after her, but this was too important. “Sir, what are you doing?” he asked Pentecost, who stood with his head bowed. “She is the strongest candidate by far.”

Pentecost didn't respond, and Raleigh's anger erupted. The secrecy regarding Pentecost's Grand Plan, being jerked around over his prospective copilot, the failed test, Chuck, Pentecost's incomprehensible strictures...it was too much. “What other options do we have? Huh? Tell me!” he demanded, jolting to his feet and striding over to the Marshal.

“Do not let my calm demeanor fool you...Ranger!” Pentecost barked. “Now is not a good moment for your insubordination!” He stepped closer to Raleigh, meeting him full in the face. “Mako is too inexperienced to rein in her memories during combat.” Pentecost insisted, turning to stride away.

Bull. Shit. And even if that were true, who's fault would that be but the man who had held her back, time and time again? Who had never let her try until it was too late for her to gain that experience? But Pentecost, despite his rank and his history with Mako, as not the authority on this matter. Raleigh was the one who had actually Drifted with her, and he'd had enough time after the Drift had collapsed to begin to sort through and categorize the information he'd received via the Drift. The flash of Mako crying for her mother, when they had first joined, that had been from Tokyo, and she hadn't become hung up on the memory. She'd let it go, let it fade, until Raleigh's trauma had brought it all back to her.

“That's not why you grounded her.” It was a bald statement. “I was _in_ her memories,” Raleigh reminded Pentecost. “I saw everything.” He'd felt the love, the adoration, the frustration buried under the weight of duty, the history that was hidden from all other eyes. Raleigh knew he hadn't seen it before the Drift, not even when Mako had flatly refused to cross Pentecost, even for something she had always – from the moment of her rescue – wanted. But that didn't mean it wasn't there, layered under the superior-subordinate relationship that was expected of them.

Pentecost moved back to stand in front of Raleigh. “I don't care what you think you saw.” the Marshal rumbled. But Raleigh wouldn't give up, there was too much at stake.

“I know what she means to you.” Raleigh confessed, “I saw it...” But before he could finish the sentence, Pentecost turned on his heel and strode right out the door. Raleigh went after him. “Hey! Hey!” he called after the departing man.

“This conversation is over,” Pentecost announced, never slowing.

“Marshal, can we just talk about this for one second –“ Raleigh tried snatching at Pentecost's arm in a last-ditch attempt to get the Marshal to turn around. Pentecost spun, clearly not expecting it, staring at Raleigh's hand on his arm as if his fingers were composed of dripping swamp muck on his pristine suit. With his other hand, he pressed the button to call the elevator.

Realizing what he'd done, Raleigh froze, horrified at his own daring. Dropping Pentecost's arm like it had abruptly burned his fingers, Raleigh backed up several steps, just enough to put some distance between them.

But he had to finish this, had to get this out before Pentecost slapped him down. “You rescued her, you raised her. You are _not_ protecting her anymore.” Raleigh said slowly, clearly. “You are _holding her back_.”

Pentecost recovered from his shock. “One,” the Marshal said softly, dangerously, “don't you ever touch me again. Two, don't you ever touch me again.” His gaze warned Raleigh not to test him on this. “Now, you have no idea who the hell I am, or where I've come from, and I'm not about to tell you my whole life story. All I need to be to you and everybody on this 'dome is a _fixed point_. The Last Man Standing _._ ” Pentecost's voice was calm and controlled, but they impacted with the force of a shout. Raleigh nodded slightly, as he acknowledged his superior's point.

“I do not need your sympathy, or your admiration,” Pentecost went on. “All I need is your _compliance_ , and your _fighting skills_.” He paused briefly to make his next point crystal clear. “And if you can't give me that, then you can go back to the Wall I found you crawling on. Is that clear?”

Raleigh nodded, stiffly. Pentecost turned slightly, tapping his ear. He wanted Raleigh to verbalize his compliance. “Yes, sir.” Raleigh said clearly.

It was all he needed to say. “Good.” Pentecost said shortly. The elevator arrived, and Pentecost got on, his eyes still boring holes into Raleigh. Raleigh knew that he wasn't invited on. He stayed where he was, as the doors closed, and Pentecost was whisked away, leaving Raleigh more alone than he'd been since Yancy had died, more isolated than he'd been on the Wall.

Without Mako, Raleigh was utterly alone.

~~~~~

If Raleigh had felt uncomfortable in the Mess before, it was nothing to what he experienced after the failed test. The Wei Tang triplets shadowed him through the food line, casting dark looks his way and muttering to each other in Chinese whenever he turned to look at him. Raleigh couldn't quite make it out, though he doubted that he'd have understood it even if he had, he'd never learned Mandarin Chinese, or Cantonese for that matter. He'd never had the opportunity before now, and had never been studious enough to learn a language just for the hell of it.

Down in the eating area, where before it had been loud and noisy, full of conversations as people spoke and ate in equal measure, now as Raleigh descended from the serving area, it went dead silent. Raleigh stood alone in the sea of silent faces, all of them staring at him, and none of them were bothering to hide it. He could see the fear in their eyes, could read it in the tightness of their expressions, recognized the way they subtly shifted apart on the benches, leaving him no room to sit. None of them wanted him to sit by them, to eat with them. Raleigh couldn't blame them, not after what Mako had done in the grip of her RABIT, but the silent staring was beginning to freak him out, remind him of the days when he, Yancy, and Jazmine would huddle together in their corner of the schoolyard, exiled from the lunchroom by the whim and decree of the popular kids, the ones who were the rulers of the schools they'd gone to, and who never had to land a punch to inflict bleeding wounds.

A subtle shift of those seated at the tables. Raleigh looked up to find Mako, holding a tray as sparsely laden as his own, evidently having been bumped from at least one Mess, and was trying her luck here. Raleigh knew she wouldn't find it in this crowd.

Their eyes met, perfect understanding passing between them for a long, silent moment. When it was over, Raleigh followed Mako from the Mess, unsurprised when she led him to the same level of the same Observation platform where she had showed him Gipsy for the first time again, where they'd first begun to connect.

They ate in silence for a long moment, their eyes fixed on Gipsy, but when the trays had been set aside, Raleigh found his voice.

“I'm sorry, I should have warned you.” he said simply. “First Drifts are rough, but you weren't just tapping into my memories, you were tapping into my brother's too.”

Raleigh sighed, unsure of how to phrase the next bit of what he wanted to say. Finally he turned his head to look at Mako, but the ghosts of time long past obscured his vision. “When Yancy was taken we were still connected.” he admitted, having to swallow, forcing down the pain that still choked him, the agony of loss still as sharp and as liable to cut as it always had. “I felt his pain, his fear, his helplessness, and then,” Raleigh gave Mako a broken smile, “He was gone.”

“I felt it,” Mako whispered, as if to speak louder would shatter the moment. “I know.”

Raleigh knew she did, knew she was the only one who _could_ truly understand. It wasn't just his loss, the fact that he'd survived his brother when they were meant to go out together if they went out at all, or the bone-crushing emptiness that came with going solo that had so unbalanced him. It was Yancy's fear and pain that still seared him, still choked him in the night. Humans weren't supposed to have such intimate knowledge of what it felt like to die, and go on living with that memory. They weren't supposed to share it with someone else, continuing the cycle of the poisoned knowledge. But he had, and found, to his surprise, that he could live with it. Sharing the pain lessened the burden, and that went for both of them.

He huffed a quiet acknowledgment, and added, “You know, you live in someone else's head for so long, the hardest part to deal with is the silence.” The aching emptiness where another mind should be. “To let someone else in, to really _connect_ , you have to trust them.” Raleigh held Mako's gaze with his own as he finished, “And today, the Drift was strong.” He allowed himself to smile as Mako's gaze searched his, a matching smile blooming on her own face.

Despite the damage done to them, the scars they bore, the baggage they both carried, Raleigh wouldn't have traded Drifting with Mako for the world. With how easily she'd slipped into his mind, and he into hers, both of them unsure, but ready to try, it was as if they'd been Drifting for years. Even Mako's RABIT, that he'd triggered with his own trauma, had proved that. Mako had heard his voice in her memory, even if she hadn't been able to respond, she'd felt Yancy die, and wasn't scared. And if the petrified girl Raleigh had seen in the alley had grown up to be the strong, confidant woman Raleigh had first met, than he pitied whatever kaiju they went up against. Someone so obviously strong would have no problems stomping the monsters into toxic soup, and he couldn't wait to stand by her side as she did so.

Pentecost _had_ to relent, and reinstate Mako as his copilot. Raleigh wouldn't accept any other outcome. Let the Marshal send him back to the Wall, there was no one else in the Hong Kong Shatterdome that Raleigh would even consider opening his mind to. That could absorb his trauma and keep functioning. It was Mako, or nothing.

A sound from across the hangar broke through their reverie, drawing their attention back to their Jaeger. A crane had a hold of a section of Gipsy's breastplate, moving away from her body so workers could access her core. “Her heart,” Mako said softly, thought it sounded like a shout to Raleigh, his entire body still aware of hers. “When was the last time you saw it?”

“Not for a long time,” Raleigh admitted. Since before Yancy died, before he left the PPDC. Before...before a lot of things, things that didn't matter anymore. Nothing did, except their connection, the three-way conduit that made all of them into one: Raleigh, Mako, and Gipsy.

He settled in to bask in the moment of connection, in the feeling of being whole once more, distantly aware of Mako doing the same at his side. The world would intrude soon enough, this was for them. The silence began to stretch, but far from being uncomfortable, it felt like a warm blanket on a cold morning, insulating them, protecting them, from what would tear them apart.

For now, they were safe.

~~~~~

Eventually, Raleigh and Mako were able to tear themselves away from their Jaeger. But no sooner had they turned their empty trays into the Mess, than the Alarm rang out, bringing everything to an immediate halt. Kaiju attack. It had been almost five years since Raleigh had last heard it, but it could have been yesterday from the way his body reacted. Adrenaline surging through his veins, heartbeat pumping...it took him right back.

And from the intensity of the sound, the two of them were due in LOCCENT pronto, with no time to divert to the drivesuit room and suit up. And according to Mako, the Mess was clear on the other side of the Shatterdome from LOCCENT, and they'd have to scramble as it was to make the briefing.

Raleigh shoved through the usual crowd with Mako on his heels, his status as a pilot – however disgraced – enough to silence any objections and make people clear him a path to the control room. Finally, they'd made their way to the front of the crowd, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with the other pilots as Tendo gave the briefing.

“...the Breach was exposed at 2300 hours.” Tendo was saying. “We have two signatures, both Category IV's. Codenames: Otachi, Leatherback. They'll reach Hong Kong within the hour.”

“Evacuate the city. Shut down the bridges.” Pentecost said firmly. Raleigh hadn't expected anything else, the orders were SOP for a city under direct kaiju threat. Over the years, Raleigh knew, city officials had gotten locking down a city for kaiju attack down to a fine art, though, as always, some were better – or simply more well practiced at it – than others. “I want every single civilian in a refuge right now.” the Marshal finished, before turning to his pilots.

“Crimson Typhoon, Cherno Alpha, I want you to front line the harbor. Stay on the Miracle Mile.” Pentecost ordered the teams to either side of Mako and Raleigh. Turning to Striker's crew on the far right, he continued, “Striker, I want you to hang back, look after the coastline. We _cannot_ afford to lose you, so only engage as a final option.”

“Yes sir!” the Hansens barked, so in sync that it was almost as if they were already Drifting.

Finally, Pentecost deigned to notice Mako and Raleigh were there. “You two,” he said, drawing out the words, as if he wanted to ask what they thought they were doing here, but was too polite to ask, “You stay put.” Turning away, the Marshal clapped his hands. “Let's go!” he barked, sending everyone scurrying.

Raleigh gritted his teeth under the verbal slap, but refused to allow himself to react to it. All he allowed himself was a curt nod of acknowledgment before he settled himself where he stood, making himself an island in the sea of chaos, Mako a fixed point by his side. He _refused_ to slink off to his room like a wounded animal, if he couldn't participate in the battle at hand, he was at least going to stand witness. And nothing would make him leave. Thankfully, no one tried.

Raleigh listened to the jargon being thrown around with only the vaguest idea of what was going on, registering only distantly as pilots were strapped into their Conn-Pods, when Crimson Typhoon and Cherno Alpha were airlifted out to the Miracle Mile, while Striker was trundled down Scramble Ally. He wasn't going to ask Mako for explanations, wasn't going to risk drawing a tech's attention away from the battle at hand for a mere play-by-play. This was too important. And, this could have been him once. When he'd woken from his coma, he'd thought seriously about retraining for LOCCENT duty, thinking that if he couldn't fight anymore, the least he could do would be to support the pilots who could. Of course, that was before the docs had cleared him for combat again, and the PPDC wouldn't take no for an answer.

“ _LOCCENT, Striker's got the ball, and we're on the roll_.” Raleigh could hear the disdain for his protected position loud and clear in Chuck Hansen's voice, as Striker reached the open water.

Herc evidently felt that a more professional acknowledgment was in order. “ _LOCCENT, nearing positions and awaiting your orders_.” Raleigh almost cracked a grin at the contrast between the two copilots, before remembering what was going on and let the smile die a quick death. A quick glance at Mako showed that his copilot was oblivious to his momentary lapse.

“Remain on the Miracle Mile and engage at your discretion,” Pentecost ordered the two forward Jaegers, dismissing Striker for the moment. “Guys, keep your eyes open. These Category IV's are the biggest we've ever seen in both size and weight.”

“ _Cherno Alpha reaching target zone,_ ” Sasha Kaidenosky's voice was cool, in control. “ _Disengaging transport._ ” Crimson Typhoon radioed in the same acknowledgment. All three Jaegers were now in play. It was because of Raleigh's fuck up during the test that that number wasn't four.

“ _Cherno Alpha in position, miracle mile_.” Sasha said again, as the counter in the display that clearly represented Cherno began to move. “ _Cherno Alpha holding the coastline. Beacon is on_.” Whatever that was. Raleigh didn't stress about it. He'd been reading up on Gipsy's new specs ever since he'd come back to the PPDC, and he recalled reading about a beacon installation, without any mention of what exactly that had entailed. Then again, maybe there was, and he just hadn't absorbed all of it yet. There was still a large bit of the folder he'd been given that still he hadn't had the chance to read, but he'd have Mako in the Conn-Pod with him to walk him through the new systems. Hopefully.

The counters that represented the two forward Jaegers in Tendo's main display continued moving forward, sweeping the water for any sign of the approaching kaiju. Raleigh saw that Crimson Typhoon reached one – Otachi – first, and from the various alarms and flashing red lights on numerous screens around him, wasn't doing too well. But Raleigh could follow the action well enough to see when Crimson passed the hand-off to Cherno, who had waded into the fight.

The Russian Jaeger didn't do any better. After a few minutes of combat, Cherno took a what had to be a heavy blow, knocking her away from the kaiju.

“ _LOCCENT, Typhoon and Alpha are in trouble_.” Herc reported in, which confirmed Raleigh's gut feeling as to the way the battle was going. “ _We're moving in_.”

Pentecost dashed to the microphone, the dedicated link to that Jaeger's radio frequency. “You are to hold your ground.” he ordered, his voice steely. “Do _not_ engage. We need you to carry that bomb. Do you copy?” he demanded. Raleigh could almost _feel_ Striker's reluctance, but she held her ground without further comment.

Crimson had engaged Otachi again, while Cherno recovered. But almost before Raleigh could blink, the lights that monitored Crimson's status on the various workstations went dead, the counter on the main display that represented the Chinese Jaeger winking out. Staring at Tendo's display in shocked disbelief, Raleigh realized that they'd just lost three pilots, without warning. Crimson Typhoon was gone.

“ _Screw this,_ ” Herc swore over the radio. “ _LOCCENT, we're going in now!_ ”

“Damn it,” Pentecost swore, slamming his fists down on the console and turning away, unable to simply stand and watch as Striker Eureka disobeyed orders, the way Gipsy had done so long ago, with disastrous results. Raleigh, his mind flashing back to that same instance, was only able to stare blankly back when his commander caught his eye for the briefest moment, before flinching away.

Raleigh watched as the counter that marked Cherno move toward Otachi, recognizing the desire for revenge that translated even through the movement of dots on a screen, but just before the Russian Jaeger could reach Otachi, more damage alarms went off. “ _Cherno Alpha, we've been hit with some kind of acid!_ ” Sasha Kaidenosky's voice was tight with the fear and pain she had to be experiencing, but would never admit aloud. “ _Hull integrity has been compromised. We need backup immediately!_ ”

Raleigh winced, unable to help himself. He knew intimately how much pain was transmitted through the circuitry undersuit when a Jaeger took heavy damage. A Jaeger pilot's undersuit allowed the pilot to move and react as if a Jaeger's limbs were their own which meant that any damage to a Jaeger felt like damage to the pilot's body. And he knew that no matter how painful it was, it had to be that way. There would be no way to react in time, no way to fight otherwise. Still...feeling your skin be dissolved by acid...Raleigh couldn't hold back the shudder.

“ _Just hold on Cherno!_ ” Herc called over the radio as Striker sprinted to the rescue. Pentecost hadn't been kidding when he'd called Striker Eureka the fastest Jaeger in the world. But even so, the Australian Jaeger had ten miles of open water to cross and that took time. “ _We're on our way!_ ” Time they didn't have.

Because even Raleigh could see that Leatherback was closer. As Cherno Alpha struggled with Otachi, her pilots desperately trying to defend themselves as the acid ate ever deeper into their hull, Leatherback lunged for the Russian Jaeger, pulling her away from Otachi. Raleigh didn't know exactly what the second kaiju was doing, but from the way the LOCCENT techs reacted to the continued battle reports, it couldn't be good.

Striker arrived on the scene just then, barely in time to prevent Otachi from slipping off and wreaking havoc among the civilians of Hong Kong. Raleigh knew why. The Kaidenoskys were fellow Rangers, protecting civilians was in their DNA. And if the Hansens saved their lives at the expense of the city of Hong Kong, the Russians would never forgive them. Striker's crew had to know that.

Speaking of Cherno's pilots, Raleigh felt something in his gut clench in fear as Leatherback's counter partially eclipsed Cherno's icon in the main display. Raleigh could hear the soft, heartbroken exhalation from Mako as Cherno's counter went dark, though soft as it was, it went no further. “We just lost Cherno, sir.” Tendo said for the record, ashes in his voice. If Gipsy had been out there, if Raleigh hadn't gotten him and Mako grounded...but there was nothing to be done. They were another Jaeger down.

Everything now depended on Striker. Raleigh watched as Otachi was hurled away from the Jaeger, away from the city. Raleigh thought that the Australian Jaeger was going to try the move he'd seen on the canteen TV, firing her chest-mounted missiles into Otachi, now that they had room to fire from.

But before the Hansens could fire, a wave of pale blue lightning washed over LOCCENT, leaving everything electronic in the room dead. Tendo swore, jumping up from his seat, slapping at his unresponsive controls.

“What's happening, what's going on?” Dr. Gottlieb – and when had he arrived? – asked, craning his head around in bewilderment.

Tendo was still fumbling with his equipment. “The blast, it jumbled all the Jaeger's electrical circuits.” he stammered, not looking up from his frantic attempts to reboot.

“They're adapting.” Dr. Gottlieb said slowly, scathingly. Raleigh felt a chill run down his spine as the scientist concluded, “This isn't a defense mechanism, it's a _weapon!_ ” It made a terrifyingly amount of sense. Knifehead had been just the beginning, and the Category III had been _far_ too smart, smart enough to know that Gipsy had been controlled by two pilots inside her head, and that body damage wouldn't cut it as a disabling wound. That's why that particular kaiju had gone straight for Yancy, though as far as Raleigh had been able to figure out since he'd rejoined the PPDC, it had been the only one to directly target the pilots. At least – from what he'd been able to piece together from the jargon being thrown around thick and fast when Crimson Typhoon had gone down – until Otachi.

“Get me Striker,” Pentecost ordered, trying to regain control of the escalating situation.

“Nothing, sir.” Tendo responded, his voice jittery with panic. “The Mark V's digital, it's all fried.” One gesture took in the shuttered station that had once been a control room. “It'll take me two hours to reroute the auxiliary. All the Jaegers are digital!”

Raleigh knew what he had to do. “Not all of them, Marshal,” he said, stepping forward with Mako at his back. “Gipsy's analog. Nuclear.” He met Pentecost's eyes squarely, but mindful of his previous misstep, kept it just shy of challenging the Marshal outright. _You know I'm right_ , he thought at Pentecost. _Let us go. Let us_ fight _. We can do this._ But still he waited, knowing that it wasn't his call to make.

Pentecost's eyes drifted to Mako, over Raleigh's shoulder, before returning to Raleigh's face. Raleigh didn't so much as flinch. Mako could handle herself in real combat, Raleigh knew that fact as well as he knew his own name.

“Go.” Pentecost's voice was clipped, the word short, but it was enough. Raleigh and Mako turned on their heels and sprinted for the door without waiting for further instructions. Every moment that passed was a moment that Otachi was using to get closer to the city, that Leatherback could be using to destroy Striker. Behind them they heard the Marshal raise his voice, giving orders. “I want Launch Operations back online _now_. Do whatever you have to do to make that happen. We're launching Gipsy. Get word to the drivesuit room, Scramble Ally: those pilots need to be suited up and launched as soon as they arrive. Someone find out if the Jumperhawk choppers are still in play, we'll need transport for Gipsy, and I want eyes on Striker – “

Raleigh tuned the rest of the orders out – they didn't matter. All that mattered right now was Mako at his side, moving in sync with him. Mindful of her shorter stride, Raleigh modulated his own so they kept pace, so he didn't pull out ahead of her. While he was certain Mako could keep up, it would do no good for them to arrive at the drivesuit room separately, all it would do would delay their deployment. And right now, every moment, every _second_ , counted.

Somehow the drivesuit room was operational. Raleigh didn't question how, given that the rest of the Shatterdome was still and dark. Unlike previous deployments, the armor assembly wasn't smooth, half the normal equipment still down, but the techs there had managed to jurry-rig equivalents and brute-force what was still completely dead, and the two of them were suited up and on their way in record time. Gipsy was warm and waiting for them when they'd arrived, and it was simple enough to get strapped in and the Drift initiated.

Raleigh took several slow, deep breaths as Gipsy was flown out, centering himself for combat. They were going to save Striker first: best guesses from LOCCENT had told him that Otachi would doubtless have already reached the city, it was too late to prevent civilian casualties, and Striker Eureka was essential for Pentecost's Grand Plan to collapse the Breach. Humanity trumped the survival of a single city.

They were at the Drop point. Mako and Raleigh hit the controls to release the cables connecting them to the choppers, dropping them into the harbor with a splash. Raleigh could feel Mako's anxiety, could feel the doubts waiting just out of reach of her conscious mind, and moved to soothe them. “All right, Mako. Get ready, this is for real.” Raleigh reminded her, speaking out loud to ground her in the present, in the Drift with him as they took their first stance. Deliberately, he pulsed his absolute confidence in her abilities at his copilot, swamping her doubts before they had time to surface.

It worked, he could feel Mako's mind settle to the task at hand, zeroing in on the clutch of glowing tendrils behind Leatherback's crest as their first target. Raleigh agreed, recalling his classes in deep-ocean biology he'd taken back at the Academy. Kaiju were unmistakably alien, but enough held at least partial similarities to various deep-ocean sub-species that the classes were mandatory at every level of pilot training, the theory being that once a pilot was able to recognize a particular attribute, they would be able to either take it into account or target it directly if it's vulnerability were known. In this case, the tendrils had to be from where Leatherback had launched the EMP that had taken down both Striker and the Shatterdome.

Raleigh laid out their strategy in broad strokes: first, disable the EMP. Second, lure it away from Striker Eureka. Third, pound the kaiju bastard into oblivion. Fourth, do the same to Otachi.

Feeling Mako's confusion that he didn't go into any more detail, Raleigh explained. _You don't plan out every last move ahead of time_ , he elaborated. _Kaiju will react in ways you're not expecting, almost every time. You go in with your game plan, and be open to the unexpected. That's how Yancy and I took down Yamarashi, when it got past Romeo Blue. We didn't plan ahead of time, we saw our opportunity and moved. And that's how Knifehead killed Yancy, it deliberately reacted like we expected it to, and we dropped our guard._

But Leatherback, it seemed, had noticed them, and there was no more time to chat. The kaiju lunged forward, they dodged to the side and got behind it. Raleigh gripped its shoulder fin, while Mako took a solid handful of the EMP tendrils, and ripped most of them away, tossing the organ they were attached to clear across the harbor. That was step one: successful.

Leatherback turned, impossibly fast for something with its bulk, taking the slight opening as Gipsy turned back to it. The kaiju seized Gipsy around the middle, its grip firm enough to rock Gipsy right off her feet. Leatherback capitalized on the opportunity, turning just enough to toss them into the air.

They landed in the working part of Hong Kong Port, in a container yard, skidding to a stop on one massive, metal knee, surrounded by the tools of an active port. Raleigh lifted their head just enough to show them that Leatherback was headed right for them, leaving Striker behind. _Step two: successful,_ Raleigh quipped to Mako. _See? It's working._

_Wonderful. Now what?_ Mako answered sarcastically, even as her mind hummed with plans and strategies for what to do next. Raleigh caught and filtered her ideas through the lens of his battle experience, sorting, sifting and refining her plans until they had one they were both happy with.

“Come on! Let's do this, together!” Raleigh shouted as Gipsy stood, and ran to meet Leatherback's advance, leaping into the air and landing a solid punch on the kaiju's skull as they came down. As it reeled from the force of the blow, Mako gripped it's crest in a firm grip and Raleigh hit it again, and again, and again, swirling helicopters lighting the murky battleground with their spotlights. _Now them? They're the real brave ones_ , Raleigh told Mako, referring the chopper pilots who got in close to the kaiju, without any of the protection of a Jaeger, all so that Jaeger pilots could see what they were doing. Mako pulsed her wordless agreement.

“Elbow Rocket!” Raleigh called out, cocking their arm back as he gave the verbal command to the AI. “Now!” Confirmation flashed on screen before them as the on-board AI activated the weapon. Mako's mind abruptly flashed to Gipsy's decal work, decal work that had been meticulously restored to pre-Knifehead conditions, including Raleigh's favorite: an anti-kaiju stamp in yellow placed on the third finger of Gipsy's right hand, the same hand destined for Leatherback's face.

_That was Yancy's idea_ , Raleigh told her, laughing.

_Why exactly do I not believe you?_ Mako questioned, her mental voice syrupy sweet.

_That's my story and I'm sticking to it._ Raleigh responded as the burn kicked in and sent Gipsy's fist flying forward. Apparently the force and power of that punch was theoretically enough to literally knock small objects into orbit. _Really? That's cool. I didn't know that._ Raleigh told Mako as Leatherback was sent stumbling away. The kaiju was clearly hurt, definitely stunned, but not out of the fight just yet. They'd have to keep at it.

The kaiju snagged a crane, obviously meant for unloading cargo, and snapped it from its supports like kindling, using the remaining portion to bash Gipsy over the head once, twice. _I hate it when the kaiju try new things_ , Raleigh groused as they looked for options, his eyes latching on what they had all around them, Mako catching his idea, deliberately bringing to mind some of the myriad bar fights Raleigh had participated in during his 5-year exile. They turned with Leatherback's latest blow, grabbing up a handful of shipping containers in each hand, and turning back just in time to slam first one weighted fist, than the other into Leatherback, finally slamming the two handfuls of containers together into a smashing sandwiching blow, with the kaiju's skull providing the filling.

The containers burst apart, the components falling in a fiery shower of debris, furniture, and other assorted contents of the containers. As Leatherback roared in pain, they got behind it again, grabbing it from behind. Deliberately mirroring Leatherback's earlier move, where it had thrown Gipsy across the harbor and into the container yard, they lifted the kaiju off it's feet. “Hang on Mako,” Raleigh gritted out, feeling his copilot's strain to lift the monster through the Drift as they tossed it as far away from them as they could.

Leatherback wasn't going down without a fight, however. It roared again, and charged Gipsy, barreling into them. “Plasma cannon, now!” Raleigh called out, activating the weapon on his side, firing from point-blank range. Raleigh fired again and again, yelling “Empty the clip, empty the clip.” Neither of them had any idea of stopping, both of them them acutely aware that while Gipsy could survive a dunking, what they couldn't survive was the moment of falling, in which Leatherback would be inside their guard and tearing them to pieces.

Raleigh kept firing, shooting one of Leatherback's massive arms off, but the kaiju was undeterred by the maiming. It kept coming, pain and what served the beast for adrenaline driving it on, pushing Gipsy right through an overpass, abandoned vehicles falling heedless around them like rain. But in the end, it was overcome. Leatherback died, just in time as Raleigh distantly registered the pressure as Gipsy's left heel pressed against one of the massive bollards used to tie up ships to the commercial dock.

Gipsy staggered to her feet, shoving the body away from her before turning and walking proudly past Leatherback's massive corpse. Raleigh allowed himself a massive sigh of relief, feeling Mako do the same. That had been close, too close. Leatherback had nearly had them there, but they'd prevailed in the end.

For a long moment, everything was fine. _“...bagged out fifth kill...”_ Raleigh's younger self bragged in his memory, just before Knifehead surged up from the water to tear his brother away from him. He staggered under the whip of memory, feeling Mako mentally tighten her hold on him, dragging him out of the past, into the present. He could feel her rueful understanding, her knowledge of just what had triggered him this time: the flash of victory, the relief of having vanquished an opponent. “Wait,” Raleigh gasped breathlessly, adrenaline letdown and the force of memory taking their toll. “I think this guy's dead. But let's check for a pulse.”

“Okay.” was Mako's simple agreement. Raleigh knew it wasn't her preference to speak verbally, when they could communicate just fine in the Drift. That she was doing so now, was for the same reason he had done so earlier: to ground him, anchor him in the _now_ , not the constant hum of memories and past experiences that was the Drift.

Raleigh knew every pilot pairing was different. He and Yancy had almost exclusively spoken aloud, saying everything verbally, rather than exchanging information and cross-talk through the Drift. Apparently the Hansens were another famously verbal pair, though Mako wasn't sure if that wasn't due more to Chuck's ego than anything else, searching for it's only available outlet in the Drift. _Ooh, good one_ , Raleigh snickered as the left hand plasma cannon opened fire, striking Leatherback's fallen body with devastating accuracy. In contrast, Mako knew that the Wei Tang triplets had been nearly completely silent, only speaking aloud when communicating with LOCCENT, or Crimson Typhoon's AI. Raleigh could feel Mako's surge of renewed anger at the Chinese Jaeger's fall, but his copilot channeled that rage into the fire she poured into Leatherback's corpse, black satisfaction leaking out through the Drift as the repeated shots carved a crater in the massive abdomen, collapsing it. “No pulse.” was Raleigh's sardonic comment as they put up the plasma cannon. Mako only grinned at him in reply.

They turned away from Leatherback then, their attention caught by the glow of flames on the other side of the harbor, marking Otachi's rampage. Despite this being the point where countless other Jaeger teams would have gone home, flushed with victory, they weren't done. Not yet. They still had a job to do.

~~~~~

They found Otachi in the ruins of a Hong Kong street mere blocks from the Boneslum, its head down a hole it had carved underground. _What's it doing there?_ Raleigh wanted to know.

Mako superimposed a map of the Hong Kong streets over their main display, highlighting the icon where Otachi was currently digging. _There's a public shelter nearby. It must be after the people there._ she told him. Dismissing the map, she asked him, _You ready?_

_Always._ Raleigh knew his grin was all teeth. _I always wanted to try this. Yancy never let me push the envelop this far._

'This far' referred to the oil tanker Mako was dragging behind her, and what they meant to do with it. Raleigh had always thought that it was a crying shame that pilots had a set quota of hours they had to fill in the Kwoon every week to stay on active status, that they were drilled relentlessly in the techniques, but there was no way to use those same skills in active combat – in a Jaeger. When he'd asked, he'd received a typical bullshit answer of there not being properly sized implements for the pilots to use as weapons against the kaiju and the brass wasn't interested in providing them.

Problem solved, thanks to opportunity and a bit of imagination. But he'd run the idea past Mako first, the same way he'd always checked with Yancy before trying anything crazy, and Raleigh knew well that he'd done a lot of stupid shit during his previous career in the PPDC. Raleigh didn't want to think of the nightmare that would ensue if one pilot tried to do one thing, while his or her copilot tried to do something else. And Mako had not only backed him, she'd picked up the boat herself. _It's because you checked it with me_ , Mako told him, still a little star-struck that he'd done so.

_You're my copilot. I trust you_. Raleigh answered her, his mental voice serious. _Not to mention, you know what Gipsy can handle better than I do these days._ It was nothing less than the truth, you couldn't lie in the Drift.

But there was no more time for chatter. Swinging the boat up into position – thankful for the wide thoroughfare that made the maneuver possible, they switched their grip and used the boat to impact Otachi's face. A slight adjustment, and they were swinging again, in the reverse direction, bringing it down a third time from above.

Only Otachi was wise to their strategy now, and caught the boat with its tail before it could be hit a third time. Raleigh and Mako tried to hold on, but Otachi was too strong. The tail tore the boat right out of their grasp, spinning it away, the boat coming to rest at least seven blocks away, twenty stories above the streets, wedged between a pair of skyscrapers.

Neither of them had time to regret the loss of their improvised weapon, as Otachi landed a massive blow to Gipsy's solar plexus with its tail, knocking them down to the street. Gipsy landed on her back, skidding on the pavement, and it took a long moment for the Jaeger to get back to her feet. Otachi didn't hesitate, disappearing around a corner impossibly fast. Raleigh could feel Mako's frustration at losing the kaiju, but the fact remained, Gipsy wasn't Striker, she simply wasn't fast enough to catch the kaiju. By the time they arrived at the corner Otachi had disappeared around, the only signs of it's passage were the craters of it's footprints, and the whisk of it's tail as it vanished again.

The trail was easy to follow, but Otachi was just too fast. It could lead them around in circles, and they'd never get close. They had to find out where it was headed, get in front of it if they wanted to stop it.

Gipsy turned down yet another wide avenue, stepping carefully over an overpass that had somehow escaped Otachi. There was still no sign of the kaiju. “I can't pinpoint it,” Raleigh exploded in frustration, speaking aloud to focus himself on the task at hand. “It's moving quick, keep your eyes open.”

_Right_ , Mako responded, turning her head to access the secondary cameras Raleigh had taught her how to use when they'd collected the boat. It was the kind of thing that the techs and rookies knew were there, but it either took dumb luck or a veteran showing them the ropes, for them to learn to use themselves. Raleigh himself hadn't learned how to access them until his third test Drift with Yancy, and that had been more of an accident than anything else. That didn't mean he hadn't gloated at his brother for at least a week afterward, that _he'd_ figured it out, and Yancy – the guy all their trainers at the Academy had called the natural pilot – had not. The secondary cameras weren't exactly hidden – they just took a particular twist of will to access that didn't properly translate out of the Drift.

But Raleigh didn't have to tap into Mako's vision to know she'd struck out as well. “Choppers, do you have a visual? Over.” he called over the radio, contacting the swarm of Jumperhawks that still hovered overhead, pacing them easily as they moved through Hong Kong's streets.

One by one, the choppers responded. None of them had line of sight on Otachi. And none of them were willing to risk going off alone in hopes of tracking the kaiju down. For a helicopter pilot, going off alone in the middle of a kaiju attack was the equivalent of signing death warrants for himself and his crew.

In the end, they didn't need to find Otachi. Otachi found them, erupting through a building to take them by surprise, tackling them into a nearby skyscraper with a roar. Recovering, Raleigh landed the first punch to Otachi's jaw, Mako the second. Their third punch missed the kaiju entirely, plunging through an office building and taking out a large section of one floor.

Otachi capitalized on the opening, grabbing Gipsy by her shoulders and hauling her away, shoving her around before throwing them through the same building in a fiery crash, never letting up for a second. “Hang on!” Raleigh gritted out, before they emerged on the other side, inertia causing them to flip completely over, Gipsy landing on the ground on her front.

Raleigh was scared. So was Mako. That position left too many critical systems vulnerable. Thankfully Otachi was slowed by navigating the tunnel it had just bored with Gipsy's body, and they managed to get themselves to their feet quickly enough to avoid it's lunge.

Just in time. Halting it's advance just shy of clearing the rubble that had once been a building, Otachi's throat flexed, and a stream of bright blue liquid jetted out from its open mouth, eerily similar to the bio-luminescence all kaiju sported like markings. Raleigh cursed, and Mako blessed Gipsy's designers as they managed to dodge out of the way, narrowly avoiding being splashed by the undoubtedly corrosive liquid.

It struck the skyscraper right behind them instead, the surface immediately eaten away by the powerful acid spray. Raleigh was struck momentarily dumb as he stared at it, at the way the hole seemed to grow before their eyes, metal and glass liquifying and infecting untouched portions of the building. Raleigh had to swallow, thinking about what that would do to Gipsy. Not even her armor would be able to stand up to that.

_This must be what crippled Cherno_ , Mako told him, her mental voice shaky with shock.

_Yeah_ , Raleigh agreed, steely determination pulsing through the Drift as they swung back to Otachi, eying the dangling sack beneath the kaiju's mouth with predatory intent. That had to be the source of the acid. _That's our next priority._

Mako pulsed her agreement. They both knew they couldn't take a hit like that and survive. They darted in, Raleigh grabbing hold of Otachi's shoulder, too close for it to bite, while Mako went for the acid sack bobbing beneath the kaiju's throat. Or tried to anyway. Otachi's tail came whipping out of nowhere, wrapping around Mako's arm from behind, the claw on the end snapping at and menacing the Conn-Pod.

Raleigh wasn't daunted by their predicament. “I'll hold it!” he called out, surging forward in the machine-to-pilot connection and taking control of both arms. “Went the coolant on the left flank.” he ordered.

Mako nodded sharply, and disengaged from Gipsy's motion control with a twist of will. Raleigh kept both arms in place, watching as she reached for the control board, reaching with unerring accuracy for the specific dial to release the coolant from the left flank. Hooked in to Gipsy as he was, Raleigh could feel it hissing up under his left arm, could feel the release of the pressure it maintained to keep Gipsy's systems from overheating. And he could feel the flailing of Otachi's tail growing weaker and weaker, as the coolant froze it solid. Finally, it stopped moving completely.

Raleigh signaled Mako through the Drift, and she twisted the dial back to its previous position, closing the vent as Raleigh shrugged hard, shattering the frozen flesh into chunks. Mako reengaged as the kaiju roared with pain – disregarding that as they pressed their advantage. Mako took hold of one of Otachi's horns, while Raleigh reached for the acid sack itself and ripped it free, careful not to get any on Gipsy and dropping it as soon as he dared. Otachi moved as if to spray it's acid again, but without the sack, only small dribbles came up, none traveling past Otachi's own mouth. _Did your mom ever wash out your mouth with soap?_ Raleigh asked Mako, relish at Otachi's predicament clear in the Drift around them.

He could feel the answer in the Drift, but Mako answered him anyway. _No. Maybe it is an American thing._

_Or maybe it's due to the fact that Yancy and I were terrible about not picking up every bad word hurled at us in the schoolyard like it was candy._ Raleigh was totally unapologetic about that fact. He'd made his peace with how filthy his mouth could be when he put his mind to it a long time ago. _I think I can still curse in at least eight different languages._

_I would appreciate it if you did not._ Mako said firmly. And she meant that. Raleigh made a mental note to curtail his cursing unless in extreme circumstances, due to the fact that it clearly bothered his copilot. And just because he could, didn't always mean he should.

But all such thoughts were driven clean out of Raleigh's head when Otachi lunged for them, knocking Gipsy first against a nearby skyscraper, then to the ground, claws digging into to Gipsy's torso. Raleigh gritted his teeth against the pain, against the memories of Knifehead tearing Gipsy to scrap in Anchorage, the sadistic way that particular kaiju had toyed with him, drawing out the agony.

Mako wrenched at their connection, dragging Raleigh out of the past, forcefully shoving the memory away. Just in time. Raleigh – and Mako – almost missed Otachi's final surprise: as if the tail, and the acid weren't enough, wings, actual goddamn _wings_ popped out along Otachi's forearms. It's rear claws still digging into Gipsy, tightly enough so they couldn't break free, Otachi rose into the air, carrying Gipsy with it. Higher and higher it flew, dropping down once, twice to smash them against the roof of nearby skyscrapers before rising again, up and up, and _up_ –

Raleigh fumbled for weapons, for an idea to get them out of this fix, but for once, he was coming up empty. On all fronts. Both plasma cannons were shot, the diagnostics telling him that Otachi's claws had ripped loose key relays, even if they had the ammo. The Rocket Punch was used up, vented on Leatherback's skull. And Otachi was still climbing, higher and higher with every beat of its wings.

The AI reported that they were leaving the atmosphere. “Temperature's dropping!” Raleigh called out to Mako, “We're losing Oxygen. Both plasma cannons are shot.” He met Mako's eyes, knowing his despair was staining the Drift like a toxic cloud. “We're out of options, Mako.” he admitted.

Raleigh could feel Mako's rebellion at the thought. “No, there's still something left.” Mako contradicted him, reaching for the control panel. Raleigh watched with dumbstruck amazement, as Mako toggled a control he hadn't seen before, hadn't recognized was hiding in plain sight. They hadn't had the chance to run weapons checks during their failed test, had so far been keeping to the weapons he was familiar with and various improvisations. This was new, and there had to be a reason why Mako hadn't called it up earlier. He reached through the Drift and found it: this weapon had no way to contain the spread of kaiju blue. But Mako's biological father had been a traditional sword maker, and his only daughter had fashioned a sword of her own.

Mako toggled the Chain Sword, Raleigh feeling the jerk as it settled into place all along his arm. He'd had zero idea it was there, Gipsy responding just as fluidly as she had with Yancy, giving no sign of her hidden ace. And he could feel Mako's joyful determination as she stepped firmly into the forward role for the first time.

“For my family!” Mako cried. Raleigh knew she didn't just mean the family she had lost to Onibaba, but the family she had gained, and lost again, bit by bit, as Jaegers fell and Shatterdomes were dismantled all over the world. And the family that had stayed with her to the end, the Kaidenoskys, the Wei Tang triplets, the Hansens, Pentecost … even Raleigh himself. This stroke was for everyone she cared about, and she would not let them down.

Mako swung their arm around, in a textbook _kesagiri_ , Raleigh moving with her, aiding her, reading the form from her reflexes. The sword severed Otachi's head along with it's wing as the kaiju screeched in it's death throws, claws retracting in biological reflex, freeing them. The only problem with that was, they were currently over 50,000 feet up.

They plummeted.

~~~~~

Raleigh rolled them over, arms and legs spread to slow their descent as much as possible. _Skydiving_ , he told Mako tersely at her confusion at the pose. _Yancy always wanted to go, we read up on all the stuff you were supposed to do, but we never had the opportunity before Mom died. After, there wasn't the time or the money. Once we joined the Academy, regs had a lot to say about potential pilots killing themselves in hair-brained stunts._ He paused. _I don't know if it will work, we don't exactly have a parachute here, but anything to slow us down has to be good, doesn't it?_

Mako wordlessly agreed. They were falling faster and faster now, Gipsy's hull heating up from the friction of reentry. They going too fast, no matter what he did to slow their descent. If they didn't find some way to slow down, Gipsy would break apart when she impacted the ground.

“ _Gipsy, listen to me_.” Pentecost called over the radio. Raleigh felt Mako's speculation as to if that meant that LOCCENT was operational again, he shoved the thought from her mind. If LOCCENT was back in one piece was immaterial at the moment, they needed to reach the surface without killing themselves before they could worry about that. “ _Loosen all shock absorbers, use your gyroscope as balance and ball up. It's your only chance!_ ”

Raleigh cast an anguished look over at Mako, Mako returning it in full. _I don't have any better ideas_ , Raleigh told her. _You ready?_

_Let's do this._ Mako declared, but Raleigh could feel just how hollow it rang as they worked together to follow the Marshal's instructions. But it wasn't enough. _We're still coming in too fast!_ Mako realized, horror clutching at her throat. _Maybe if we vent our fuel, we can counteract some of our momentum!_

_Can't hurt._ Raleigh agreed. “Fuel purge, now!” he called out, as he hit the correct control on his board. He felt the jolt as the fuel punched out of Gipsy's core like a punch to the solar plexus, the opposing force doing more than anything else to slow Gipsy's fall. They were close enough that they could pick out details on the ground now, and Raleigh aimed their descent for a large sports arena, figuring it for a place large enough to give Gipsy a clear landing area, and, thanks to the time of night and the recent Double Event, deserted enough so they wouldn't have to worry about bystanders. He kept his focus tight and narrow, even as he felt Mako's curiosity as to how he expected to aim such a fall. The margin of error was so small, Raleigh couldn't spare even the tiniest crumb of concentration to show her how he did it.

Was it enough? Raleigh couldn't be sure. But they were out of time. “We're coming in too fast!” Raleigh screamed. “We're coming in too fast, brace for it Mako!”

Gipsy was vertical again, coming in with her feet first. They landed hard, slamming into the ground, using all the tricks pilots were taught to manage varying types of impact from air drops, to Conn-Pod deployments to kaiju assaults, Raleigh recalling some techniques he'd seen on the Wall. Gipsy fell first to her knees, then forward onto her arms, breaking the momentum. Raleigh felt Gipsy's shuddering in his bones, as the Jaeger shook, deciding whether or not to shake apart into a million pieces.

But Mako and her engineers had done their job well. Gipsy held together, her head bent forward, her helm nearly touching the ravaged field of the arena, her view screen blocked by thrown up dirt. His whole body aching from the impact, Raleigh took control, levering Gipsy slowly to her feet, tall above the settling dust. Everything was fine, except for one thing: he hadn't heard or felt anything from Mako since the impact.

“Mako, talk to me,” Raleigh gasped out, his worry an almost physical ache. He tried again, “Mako, you okay?”

Finally she responded, turning her head to meet his gaze. “Yeah,” she replied, her breathlessness a match to his own. “You?” she asked.

Raleigh couldn't help it. He collapsed, helplessly and hopelessly, into laughter, his relief and mirth, joy at being alive after the narrow shave they had both had, combining to leave him absolutely wrecked. He could feel Mako's similar response through the Drift, and knew that they were feeding off each other, the Drift engulfing and enhancing their reactions as one by one, the spotlights from the surrounding helicopters found them, until Gipsy was standing haloed, triumphant, from all directions.

They had _done_ it. Done what no other pilot pairing had done, _ever_ , taken out two different kaiju in one sortie, with Gipsy still largely intact and combat-worthy to boot. _We sure showed them how it's done_ , Raleigh gloated to Mako, finally getting control of himself. _That's_ seven _for Gipsy. We'll catch Striker's record yet_.

Raleigh felt – more than heard – Mako catch her breath. _Did you mean that?_ she asked, awe clearly audible in her mental tone. Raleigh was...quite frankly puzzled why this was such a big deal. She was part of Gipsy, right? It made sense to include her in all of Gipsy's previous victories, didn't it?

_Of course I did._ Raleigh returned, honestly curious why she was making such a big deal about this. _You're a part of Gipsy now, have been since you started restoring her. Of course you deserve to share in her victories. Yancy would agree without hesitation if he were here, and had simply been sidelined._

Raleigh knew for a fact that Yancy would have loved Mako. That his brother would have greeted her spirit, and her determination with the same _hell yes! g_ rin that he'd given their younger sister Jazmine, when she had dragged herself home from school one day with a black eye, and a beaming grin on her split lip – all because she'd picked a fight with a girl who had been making her life miserable, and won. Of course Jaz had found herself grounded for that stunt, but when he'd heard the details of what exactly had gone down, Raleigh had smuggled her his dessert that night, and once their parents had gone to bed, he and Yancy had dragged their sister out of bed and taught her how to not get so beat up next time.

Any further thoughts about his lost family were driven out of Raleigh's head when the radio crackled. “ _Team Gipsy Danger, we'd be honored to give you a ride back to base_.” the crew of one of the nearby choppers informed them. “ _We'll need that Jaeger brought in ASAP to get her back in tip top shape, but it'll take a bit to get the transport cables hooked up. No reason why you have to stay put when you two could be receiving a hero's welcome back at the 'dome_.”

As always, Raleigh looked to Mako for her input. _I'm game. What about you?_ he asked. He knew what he would like to do, but what they did, they did as a team. And that meant that it was Mako's call.

Mako only hesitated for a second. _Let's do it_ , she decided, satisfaction and more than a little desire to see those who had derided them eat their words very evident in the Drift.

“This is Gipsy Danger,” Raleigh transmitted back to the chopper that had offered them a ride. “Thanks for the offer, and we would be happy to accept. Disconnecting, and powering down in ten...nine...eight...” he counted down as he and Mako ran down the checklist to shut Gipsy down, setting the safeties for all weapon systems – no matter their functionality – and dialing down the reactor. “...three...two...one. Shutting down now. See you topside in five.”

The Drift fell away from them, leaving Raleigh alone in his own head. It felt strange...hollow even, without the subtle sense of _Mako_ whispering through his thoughts. That had been one intense Drift, felt like had had gone on forever, even though he knew it had only been a few hours, maximum. But there was no sense dwelling on the sensation. Raleigh shrugged out of his harness, stepping away from the platform that allowed Gipsy to mirror his movements, aware of Mako doing the same. He pulled off his helmet, shaking his head and running his gloved fingers through his hair to release some of the energy that surged through him, left him keyed up and and ready for more. “You ready to face the music?” he asked Mako, as he turned to face her.

“Sure.” Mako replied, her helmet already off and nestled in the crook of one arm. Raleigh led the the way up to to the escape hatch, where, sure enough, one of the helicopters was hovering just above Gipsy's skull, a boarding ladder dangling down to them. The rest of the choppers were in formation around Gipsy's shoulders, but none had dropped lines to prepare the Jaeger for transport, a silent salute to their efforts against Otachi and Leatherback

Raleigh turned to look at Mako, who had frozen slightly at the sight and nudged her with his shoulder. “Wave.” he cued her, suiting action to words as he raised his own arm to acknowledge the tribute being offered them. Mako flushed lightly at the reminder, raising her own arm without delay, turning slightly to acknowledge all the choppers tributes. Only once all the salutes were recognized, did they board their transport back to the Shatterdome.

~~~~~ 

The welcome was overwhelming to say the least. Raleigh was no stranger to the almost ritual celebration each 'dome held following each successful Jaeger win – the Manilla celebration had been one for the record books and it wasn't just due to the fact that there had been three crews involved. But this, this just might top it. And that was saying a lot.

The first inkling that this was going to be big came when the crew of their transport chopper near-about fell all over themselves to shake Raleigh and Mako's hands, clap them on their backs, and shout congratulations for their win over the roar of the blades. Once they'd landed, it seemed as if every on and off-duty MP and chopper pilot was waiting for them on the main helipad, ready to escort them to Hangar One, where it seemed that the rest of the Shatterdome's population was waiting for them. And all of them were clapping, shouting, near-about dancing for joy.

Mako looked taken aback by all the fuss. That was right, this had been her first combat drop, Raleigh had almost forgotten that, due to how skillfully she had handled herself against the two kaiju. He had to shake his head, just a bit. As if he needed more evidence of just how awesome she was, how confidant, amazing...words failed him when it came to describing just how incredible his copilot had been. They would have been dead without that sword, Raleigh had no qualms about admitting that.

But it was more than Mako's mechanical expertise, it was the way she had hauled him out of not one, but two flashbacks, one after Leatherback had been killed, the other while they had been facing Otachi. The way she had quickly picked up the subtle quirks of piloting, until even Raleigh forgot that she hadn't been jockeying for years. She had carried herself like a seasoned veteran out there, and he knew that it wasn't due to his guidance. All he'd needed to do, really, was give her a few pointers, and shore up her confidence before it started to sag. The rest had all been her.

The cheering was just starting to die down when Herc Hansen pushed his way through the crowd. He'd clearly been retrieved from Striker some time ago, because not only had he changed out of his drivesuit and back into civvies, but he'd clearly had time to go by Medical as well. His right arm was caught up in a sling. He smiled at Mako, offered her his uninjured hand to shake – ranger to ranger – before turning to Raleigh.

“My kid'd never admit it,” Herc told Raleigh. “But he's grateful. We both are.” the older pilot held out his hand, and Raleigh gave it a firm shake.

Then Raleigh allowed his gaze to drift over the father's shoulder, to see the son, several rows back. In clear contrast to everyone around him, Chuck wasn't smiling, though he did grant Raleigh a grudging nod. Raleigh felt a slow smirk, so similar to the ones the younger pilot had so often thrown in his direction, grow on his own face.

Mako caught it. _You could be more gracious_ , she told him, through the fading connection that still existed between them.

_I'll be gracious when Hansen Junior apologizes for what he said to you. To both of us. I'll respect his abilities in the Conn-Pod, that doesn't mean I have to respect him as a person_. Raleigh responded, not willing to give an inch. He could feel how very unimpressed Mako was at his response, but what else could he say? It wasn't like lying to his partner was an option right now. Not with the Ghost Drift in full effect between them.

But any intent to discuss this further, fell away as an aisle opened up in the crowd before them, and Marshal Pentecost appeared at the other end of it. “Mr. Becket! Ms. Mori!” the Marshal called ahead of him as he walked toward them.

Pentecost came to a stop directly in front of Raleigh. “In all of my years fighting, I've _never_ , seen anything like that.” he said, looking directly at Raleigh as he did so. Raleigh fought the urge to avoid the Marshal's penetrating stare, he had every right to meet his commander's eyes. Then Pentecost switched his gaze to Mako. “Well done. Proud of you.” he told her softly, and Mako blushed softly at the simple praise, ducking her head under the acknowledgment she had always wanted from this man, who had taken her in, and loved her as his own.

“Proud of us all,” Pentecost continued, raising his voice so the entire crowd could hear. “But, harsh as it sounds, there is no time to celebrate.” Raleigh could feel the uneasy ripple through the crowd at that. By any standard of measurement, Otachi and Leatherback fell squarely in the 'win' column.

But Pentecost wasn't done talking. “We lost two crews.” and Raleigh wanted to kick himself for forgetting. Crimson Typhoon, Cherno Alpha, five pilots and two irreplaceable Jaegers had been lost. What did that do for Pentecost's Grand Plan? Raleigh had no clue. Nothing good, he imagined. “No time to grieve.” Raleigh anticipated the Marshal's next move, and turned with him as the older man turned to face the War Clock, set above the entrance Mako and Raleigh had just entered through. “Reset that clock!” Pentecost bellowed, and, as everyone watched, the clock flipped back to zero all around. Raleigh watched as the section showing how many seconds had passed begin immediately to move. _01...02...03..._

But when Pentecost turned back to face the crowd, clearly intending to continue speaking, Mako raised her hand and wiped unobtrusively under her nose. Raleigh only caught it due to how hypersensitive he still was to his copilot, how her every movement and gesture still sang down his nerves.

Pentecost saw it as well, and checked himself. Raleigh thought he saw a bit of blood on the older man's hand as he mimicked Mako's gesture, saw the way the Marshal's dark skin grew fractionally paler at the sight. “Reset the clock,” Pentecost ordered again as he strode from the room, dabbing at whatever it was with a brown handkerchief.

Stunned, both by the blood, and by Pentecost's reaction to it, Raleigh automatically checked with Mako. That...couldn't mean what Raleigh thought it meant. Could it?

Mako's heavy gaze said it all. Still, Raleigh had to ask. _Is it serious?_

_Yes_. Mako answered simply, her despair spreading out in circles around her. _It's very serious._

~~~~~

After the gathering in Hangar One, which broke up soon after Gipsy was triumphantly lowered back into place, Raleigh went searching for the Marshal. He finally found Pentecost in his quarters, not the Infirmary, which told Raleigh volumes about how serious this was, and how long it had been going on. The Marshal was bent over the sink in his private head, cleaning up, the bleed having evidently stopped. “How sick are you?” Raleigh asked, making his presence known. “And why didn't you tell me?”

Pentecost groaned in answer, getting up from his crouched position to dry his hands. “What's to tell?” the other man began. Raleigh didn't answer, his silence a demand. Pentecost evidently heard it, because he kept talking. “You know, them Mark I's, we scraped those bad boys together in 14 months.” Raleigh had known that, everyone had known that, the world having been desperate for a functional weapon against the seemingly unstoppable kaiju. But Pentecost wasn't finished talking. “Last thing we were thinking about was radiation shielding.”

He didn't have to say anymore. Raleigh knew. Gipsy was a Mark III, but even so, before Yancy and him had been allowed access to her Conn-Pod, before they were allowed to even _see_ her, the two of them had been sat down in a room with some legal experts, at least three doctors, and a stack of paperwork approximately three inches deep for each of them to go through. All the risks, all the possible side effects that piloting would bring, not counting getting seriously hurt or killed by kaiju in active battle, were brought up, and gone over in exhaustive detail. Once everything had been gone through, and the legal experts and doctors were certain that both Raleigh and his brother understood and accepted the risks, they were each given a box of pills. Metharocin, meant to combat the effects of radiation exposure, standard issue for anyone and everyone that worked with or near a Mark I, Mark II, or a Mark III Jaeger, all of which were powered by individual nuclear reactors. The daily dose of medication worked, but only up to a point. And radiation sickness was a slow, ugly way to go out.

“I ran nearly a dozen missions.” Pentecost admitted as he dried his face and tossed away his towel. “I stayed under the medial radar for a while, but the last time I jockeyed was Tokyo.” The older man crossed the room, moving to a shelf where stacks of identical dress shirts waited, starched and pressed, ready for the Marshal to don his armor once more, with everyone else in the Shatterdome none the wiser that there had been any problem whatsoever.

Pentecost turned his head to look at Raleigh, full in the face. “I finished the fight solo, but for three hours, I burned.” Raleigh was rocked by the revelation, stunned by what the Marshal was really doing here: he was _confiding_ in Raleigh. “They warned me that if I ever stepped foot in a Jaeger again, the toll would be too much.”

Pentecost looked away, down at the fresh shirt in his hands. “You and I are the only two who ever ran solo combat.” he said heavily. “It's why I brought you here.”

Raleigh stared at his commander, suddenly feeling a sense of kinship he had never known to associate with cold, remote Pentecost. The other man understood that losing the connection to your copilot wasn't the worst of it, it was the aching _absence_ that connection left behind, the burn of your Jaeger's full neural load of pounding down on you, and the strength of will it took to not immediately collapse under the weight. The searing loneliness of being alone in the Conn-Pod that burned and ate away at you, until you didn't know how much of you was left, until only a single compulsion remained, that you clung to when all else fell away. For Pentecost, it may have been killing Onibaba. For Raleigh, it had been finding Yancy. They'd told him after he'd woken from his coma that he'd been stumbling around the Gulf for over six hours before he'd fetched up on shore.

Raleigh didn't know how long he stood there, staring wordlessly at Pentecost, the Marshal staring just as wordlessly back at him, before a computer beeped softly, interrupting the moment of perfect understanding between the two men.

Pentecost straightened his tie, not bothering to change into his new shirt before striding to the terminal where he accepted the call, Raleigh following him over. Tendo's shocked face appeared on the holographic display, the restored deployment screen superimposed over his face. Two red dots stood out in stark relief, both of them clustered tightly together. Kaiju signatures.

“What is it?” Pentecost asked, not bothering with pleasantries. His stained shirt aside, the Marshal sounded calm and in control, crisply professional.

“ _Sir, it's happening again._ ” Tendo's voice sounded shaky, almost broken. “ _I just got two signatures with unprecedented dilation, 40- meter spikes._ ”

“What category?” Pentecost's calm did not waver, nor did his demeanor change. Now that he had a peak behind the mask, Raleigh was impressed all over again with his superior's poise.

“ _Checking the ratios, Category IV_.” Tendo reported, his voice marginally steadier.

Pentecost grimaced. “Where are they headed?” he asked, grim determination in his voice. Raleigh could sympathize. They were down to two Jaegers, and both still needed urgent repairs to get back to full strength. But that couldn't stop them if they were needed to save lives. Not to mention, Pentecost's Grand Plan – Mako had called it Operation Pitfall in the Drift – was still in play. But if they lost any more Jaegers...

“ _That's the thing, they're not heading anywhere. They're hovering just above the Breach_.” Tendo sounded honestly baffled. “ _It's like they're protecting it or something_.”

Pentecost barely hesitated. “All right, Gipsy, Striker on deck –“

“ _Sir_ ,” Tendo broke in. “ _Herc cannot ride. His arm..._ ” his voice trailed away.

“You heard me.” Pentecost rapped out. “Launch Pitfall. We have a go.” He cut the connection without waiting for a response.

Pentecost's dark eyes landed on Raleigh, who instinctively straightened up under that regard. “Where's Mako?” Pentecost demanded.

“Hangar One.” Raleigh didn't have to think about it. The Ghost Drift after the Double Event hadn't completely faded away in the hours since the Drift had ended, enough still remained that Raleigh could pinpoint his copilot's location blindfolded, even if they could no longer speak mind-to-mind. “She's supervising Gipsy's refit.”

Pentecost nodded. “Meet me there.” he told Raleigh, and strode off, his back straight, his head high, but his shirt stained and jacket discarded. Raleigh watched him go, a strange sensation at the back of his mind, tickling at the corner of his awareness.

Then the Alarm sounded, driving all such thoughts from his head. Tendo's voice called over it, saying, “ _All pilots, suit up. Operation Pitfall is a go. I repeat, Operation Pitfall is a go_.”

~~~~~

Sure enough, Mako was in Hanger One, still dressed her her drivesuit as she hadn't taken the time to change before plunging headfirst into Gipsy's repairs. Like they were drawn together by a string, it only took a moment for them to find each other, even amidst all the swirling chaos as the entire Hangar kicked into high gear. “What's happening?” she asked him, as soon as they came together.

“Double Event.” Raleigh kept his words short, and to the point.

Mako was incredulous. “Again?” she asked, aghast at the prospect. Raleigh only looked at her, letting her see that he wasn't joking. “Where?” she asked, her tone calmer but still holding an undercurrent of disbelief. Raleigh couldn't blame her, it had been only eight short hours since the last two kaiju had come through the Breach. But he'd seen the data in Tendo's display when the other man had called Pentecost for himself. It was happening.

“The Breach.” Raleigh told her briskly. “They're not moving, not headed anywhere. We've got to go to them if we want to take them out.” At Mako's look of _keep going,_ Raleigh added, “I was with Pentecost when the word came. That's direct from Tendo's mouth.”

Mako opened her mouth as if to respond, but loud yelling broke out nearby, derailing whatever she'd been about to say. Raleigh let his gaze drift in that direction, and saw Chuck Hansen, not dressed in his drivesuit despite the direct order do do so, giving Tendo a piece of his mind. Raleigh had half a mind to do likewise, when what Chuck was yelling penetrated. “Well, I can't pilot Striker on my own, now can I?” Chuck challenged, his words all arrogant bluster, but Raleigh could hear the uncertainty in it, the disorientation that came with not knowing who would partner you, when the one you had relied on for so long was no longer available. Raleigh could relate. “Dad's hurt, so who's going to be my copilot?”

As if in answer, the doors under the War Clock opened and Pentecost stood there, dressed in a drivesuit virtually identical to Raleigh's own. Raleigh guessed that it was all that was available, that this one had been meant for whoever was chosen as his new copilot, before Mako was chosen and she obviously wouldn't fit. Herc stood by his side, his face carefully composed, the arm that had grounded him still in it's sling.

Raleigh could feel Mako's immediate attention, recalled Pentecost's words of less than half an hour before: that the damage he'd taken going solo to save Tokyo – and Mako – so long ago was such that he'd been told never to pilot a Jaeger again. If he did, the strain would kill him. But they were out of options. Herc had been grounded, and there was no way they could expect Chuck to pilot Striker Eureka solo, for the entirety of Operation Pitfall, and Pentecost was the only other remaining pilot in the Shatterdome that didn't already have a copilot and Jaeger of his own.

Raleigh had to admit, it was an inspiring sight. He could see it in the suddenly hopeful gazes of the workers surrounding them, at the strict attention of the MP's on duty. But there was one person who felt not hope but despair at the sight: Mako.

The two older pilots came even with their little group, Chuck, Tendo, Mako, and Raleigh himself. Raleigh let his eyes roam over the new drivesuit, quirking his eyebrow at the Marshal. “I don't remember it being so tight.” Pentecost replied to his unasked question, self-consciously reaching up as if to touch his stomach, before he seemed to realize what he was doing and moved off, Herc peeling away to corral his son.

Mako ran after the Marshal, Raleigh following at a discrete distance, stopping some distance away, far enough away to give them privacy, but close enough to be sure no one else intruded. Raleigh couldn't hear what they were saying, they were talking too softly for that, but he didn't have to. Whether it was lingering residue from his Drift with Mako, or the unexpected commonality he'd found with Pentecost, Raleigh wasn't sure, but he knew. Mako was scared for her adoptive father, not wanting him to go when he'd surely die in the attempt; Pentecost determined to do so anyway, but wanting her blessing before he went, his love and pride in his daughter nearly tangible.

Mako nodded at something Pentecost said, and then the Marshal's eyes cut away from her, looking over her shoulder, his gaze finding Raleigh for a brief instant. Raleigh didn't need the Drift to know what was behind those eyes: _Look after her for me? After?_ Pentecost asked, not needing to verbalize the request.

Raleigh met the older man's gaze squarely, holding it with his own. _Yes_ , he nodded. _I will_.

Pentecost nodded sharply, before straightening his shoulders and calling everyone to attention. “Everyone!” Pentecost bellowed, bringing all eyes to him. “Listen up.”

Gipsy stood nearby, in the berth she had occupied for only a few short hours. Pentecost stepped – nimble despite the clunky drivesuit boots – up onto one of her feet, raising him far enough above the crowd so as to be clearly visible by everyone in the hangar. Raleigh moved to stand next to Mako, could feel the moment when Chuck Hansen moved to stand on his other side, but decided not to make an issue of it. The three pilots should stand together for this, the last stand.

“Today,” Pentecost began, facing away from the crowd to begin, “today...at the edge of our hope...at the end of our time...we have chosen to believe not only in ourselves, but in each other. Today there's not a man or woman in here that shall stand alone.” he turned around, the Marshal's gaze sweeping over the crowd, and Raleigh would have bet anything he owned that Pentecost focused on each and every single face. The Marshal was just the kind of leader who would not take short cuts with so much at stake. Raleigh could feel the older man's conviction, could feel the energy underneath the words begin to build, binding the crowd into a single unit.

“Not today,” Pentecost continued, his voice deceptively light. The power that Raleigh had heard the echos of before came out full force as the Marshal let it have full rein as he kept going. “Today we face the monsters that are at our door and bring the fight to them!”

Pentecost paused, just for a moment, for effect. “Today we are _canceling the Apocalypse!_ ” he roared. And his people responded, bursting into cheers, the sound ringing off the walls of the massive space before throwing themselves into their tasks with new will, energy, hope, and enthusiasm gifting weary muscles with new purpose as the four pilots moved as a single unit toward the elevators that would take them to their Jaegers.

~~~~~

The rush of adrenaline and new purpose that Raleigh felt at the conclusion of Pentecost's rousing speech ebbed away once he and Mako were alone in Gipsy's Conn-Pod, watching the harnesses lower for the last time. Raleigh couldn't look away from Mako, was physically unable to tear his eyes away from hers. Both of them knew what was at stake here, both of them knew exactly how long the odds of them surviving this mission were. Maybe, maybe, there had been a chance they would live through this if Cherno Alpha and Crimson Typhoon were still operational. Maybe not. But there hadn't been time to fully repair either Gipsy or Striker after the Double Event, never mind both. Both Jaegers would be heading down to the Breach at half, maybe even a quarter of their full fighting strength. And they had to not only take on two Category IV kaiju, but they had to destroy the Breach.

Neither of them spoke as the techs entered to strap them in, but neither did they look away from each other as the connections were tightened, their air hoses secured to their armor, and the Conn-Pod was sealed.

“You know Mako,” Raleigh spoke up as the final checks prior to Drop were run through, “all those years I spent living in the past, I never really thought about the future.” He looked down for a long instant, breaking their constant eye contact, before reclaiming it as a bitter smile fought it's way onto his face. “Until now.”

Raleigh forced himself to laugh, it came out in a mirthless huff. “I never did have very good timing.” On the eve of a suicide run, upon which rested the survival of the entire human race. Yeah, that was fucked, to put it mildly.

But he'd had to speak up, and do so before the Drift was engaged. Raleigh didn't want to know what Mako's reaction to his revelation had been, wasn't really sure what his own was. He was still coming to terms with the fact that Mako made him want _more_ , more than survival, more than enough food in his belly to keep functioning. Mako made him want... It was a fucking cliché, but Mako made him want the stereotypical white-picket fence, made him want long walks in the moonlight hand in hand, made him want beautiful, brilliant children with her eyes and hair for him to raise while Mako did wonderful and amazing things with technology. Drifting with her, made Raleigh want to taste life again, the life he had been running from ever since he felt Yancy die. He could rationalize it all he wanted, could say that it had been the PPDC that had made him run, but the truth was Raleigh had wanted to die ever since Knifehead had killed the last real link Raleigh had to humanity.

Mako made him want to _live_. And that scared the shit out of Raleigh more than anything. More than the kaiju, more than the mission. But considering that they were all about to die, maybe he could live with that, just for now.

Tendo engaged the Drop, and Raleigh refused to look away from Mako. She did the same, holding him with her eyes as he held onto her. Raleigh felt the Drift begin to prick at his mind, but he refused to look away. This would be the last time, he knew it, and he wanted to make the most of it.

Their eyes were still locked together as their minds merged.

~~~~~

“ _Reaching drop point,_ _disengaging transport_ ,” Tendo radioed from LOCCENT, as both Jumperhawk teams cut the cables and the Jaegers dropped gracefully into the water. Raleigh hadn't been involved in the planning for Pitfall, or the planning for any of his previous visits to the Breach, but he didn't need Mako to tell him why. While Jaegers could go underwater for short periods with little to no problem, they hadn't been designed to _stay_ submerged, being built to primarily fight atop the waves. They needed to seal the vent ports before they could safely submerge.

As if cued by Raleigh's thoughts, Chuck radioed from Striker, “ _LOCCENT, all ports sealed, ready to submerge_.”

Raleigh caught Mako's eye as they finished the checks to seal Gipsy tight. It was a risk, Gipsy's reactor generated a lot of waste heat, but Mako knew the coolant levels had been topped up in the brief interval between Otachi and this latest Double Event; that, combined with the chill of the deep ocean should be enough to keep Gipsy from overheating.“All ports sealed,” Raleigh echoed the younger pilot, his hand on the radio toggle, “Ready to submerge.”

With no more fanfare than that, the two Jaegers moved forward, following the bottom as it steadily dropped away from them, heading down into the dark. Raleigh pulsed a bit of reassurance at Mako, who was more than a little disconcerted at the sight of water over Gipsy's head. It definitely took a bit of getting used to, Raleigh and Yancy both had been uneasy for weeks after their first trip to the Breach.

“ _Two actives still in circle formation in the Guam quadrant_.” Herc spoke from LOCCENT, getting Raleigh's mind back on task. With Pentecost himself in Striker's Conn-Pod, Herc was standing in for the Marshal. “ _Code names: Scunner, Raiju. Both Category IV_.”

Raleigh filed that bit of Intel away, even as he reached out to help Mako who was still struggling with finding her way on the bottom. He could feel her accessing Gipsy's lower cameras more and more frequently, peering ahead of them with the aid of Gipsy's spotlights to try and find their footing. Lacking any real way to make the issue go away, Raleigh shared with her the memory of the routes he and Yancy had taken to and from the Breach, the two previous times he'd been. It helped, at least somewhat, though the lack of light was starting to get to him as well.

“ _Roger that_ ,” Pentecost relayed. “ _Half a mile to the ocean cliff, we jump. It's 3000 meters to the Breach._ ”

The ocean cliff was the first major milestone in the route to the Breach. And after that, things would get dicey. Raleigh remembered that even with Gipsy's lights, there was no visibility at the foot of that cliff. Not to mention, two Category IV kaiju hovering in that general vicinity, just waiting to pounce. He could feel Mako's mental wince at the thought. He didn't blame her

“ _Half a mile?_ ” Chuck shouted over the radio, “ _I can't see a damn inch ahead. How are we supposed to deliver the bomb?_ ”

Raleigh made the decision to switch from actual view, to instrument view. By now the light had thinned to the point where nothing further could be made out with any degree of clarity. “Visiblity's Zero. Switching to instruments now.” Raleigh reported over the open comm.

_Are you sure that's wise?_ Mako asked, glancing over at Raleigh as he flipped the switch, changing their display. The instrumentation was limited in the types of data it could collect. On the surface, they could see better without it, no matter how dark the night.

_We need to see what we're doing,_ Raleigh returned. _Much as I hate to admit it, Chuck's right. Otherwise, we'll end up going in circles and never find the Breach._ That exact scenario had almost happened to another Jaeger on Gipsy's first visit to the Breach. Only Tendo's sharp eyes from LOCCENT had kept Matador Fury on task.

Down and down they went, Gipsy keeping pace just behind Striker, watching her back. Raleigh could feel Mako's wince as she saw how much Gipsy was disturbing the sediment as she walked, how much silt was thrown up every time she set her feet down. Raleigh agreed, particularly since the only way this had a chance in hell of working was by stealth, but there wasn't anything either of them could do about it. It just was, and they had to make the best of it.

Which was when the radio squawked, as if cued by Mako's concerns. “ _Gipsy, you have moment on your right_ ,” Herc warned them. “ _Three o'clock! Three o'clock!_ ” Obediently, Raleigh turned his head, scanning the area. Nothing.

“Right flank's clear!” Raleigh called back, bewildered. “I got nothing.”

“ _Left now!_ ” Tendo called down his microphone, clearly tracking something on his display. “ _And moving fast. Fastest kaiju on record!_ ”

_Well, wasn't that perfect_ , Mako groused. Raleigh flashed her a mental grin, his eyes focused on the feed from Gipsy's instruments, checking the left flank, his frustration mounting when he still didn't see anything.

“I don't see anything,” Raleigh expelled the words with the force of a shout. “It's moving too fast!”

_Tamp it down_ , Mako ordered sternly. _If you get too frustrated, you'll lose sight of what we're down here to do._

“ _Eyes on the prize, Gipsy!_ ” Chuck echoed over the radio. “ _600 meters to the drop_.”

Chastened by both his copilot and Chuck, Raleigh refocused his attention on the task before them as the two Jaegers steadily made their way closer to their destination. First Striker, than Gipsy, reached the underwater cliff, and jumped lightly – well, lightly for a Jaeger anyway – down it. Instantly, all remaining light from the world above winked out. They were in near total darkness,even their instrumentation having trouble picking out detail this far under water. All light came from the menacing glow from the nearby Breach and various hydrothermal vents scattered over the seafloor.“ _400 meters and closing,_ ” Chuck called out. They were almost there, with no further warnings from LOCCENT about kaiju activity, when the game changed abruptly.

“ _Striker! Bogies are stopping. One o'clock_.” came the call from LOCCENT. Ahead of them, Striker came to a dead stop; Raleigh, Mako, and Gipsy following her lead.

Evidently, Chuck had other ideas. “ _Marshal, what are you doing?_ ” he near about bellowed at his copilot.

“ _They're stopping_.” was Pentecost's stark reply. “ _Why the hell are they stopping?_ ”

Chuck, evidently, didn't give a shit, and said as much. “ _I don't give a damn sir!_ ” he roared. “ _We're 300 meters from the drop!_ ”

But Pentecost was stubborn. “ _Something's not right,_ ” he insisted.

_I agree with the Marshal,_ Raleigh told Mako privately. _This feels like a set up. Why didn't that bastard attack us earlier? Why aren't they attacking us now? Something's going on_. _Something big_. Raleigh well recalled what it felt like to walk into an ambush, the instincts he'd developed during his years on his own kicking into gear.

Herc, watching from LOCCENT, had other ideas. “S _triker, the bogeys aren't following. Take the leap_ now!” he ordered, his tone strident enough to be a controlled yell. It was something he was very good at.

Abruptly, there was the sound of a scuffle at the microphone, than a new voice came over the radio. “ _Blowing up the Breach, it's not going to work!_ ” Dr. Geizsler – Newt, the asshole who had bragged about Yamarashi, and who had wanted to see a kaiju up close – babbled, speaking so fast that Raleigh could barely hear what he said.

“ _What do you mean?_ ” Pentecost asked, showing more patience than Raleigh would have thought possible. “ _What's not going to work?_ ”

“ _Sir, just because the Breach is open does not mean that you're able to get a bomb through_.” the tattooed biologist stated, his words stark fact.

Dr. Gottieb elaborated for his colleague. “ _The Breach genetically reads the kaiju like a...a barcode at the supermarket and then lets them pass_.”

Raleigh gave full vent to his emotions, cursing as fluently as he knew, vaguely aware of the fact that the words were in a wide variety of languages. He hadn't been kidding when he'd told Mako he could curse in at least eight different languages, though after working on the Wall as long as he had, it was likely more. For a wonder, despite her distaste for strong language, Mako was in full agreement with the sentiment behind Raleigh's statements. They were so close. So _fucking_ close. If they couldn't get that bomb through, the world would end. Stark fact. Failure was _not_ an option here, but it seemed as if they'd already failed.

Newt kept talking. “ _You're going to have to fool the Breach into thinking you have the same code!_ ”

Mako glanced at Raleigh, confusion clear in her eyes. _I don't know_ , Raleigh replied. _You're smarter than me, do you have any idea how we can do that?_ Mako made a face. She didn't know, was just as lost as he was. All she had was the sliver of an idea, but had discarded it as soon as she thought of it, due to not only the unpleasant nature of it, but of how stupid it was. They'd never survive long enough to reach the Breach if they went that route, those were Category IV's out there, and and the last two such kaiju Raleigh had faced so far had been far too smart for their own good.

“And how are we supposed to do that?” Raleigh challenged the scientists. Because, really, he'd like to know.

“ _By making it think you_ are _a kaiju_.” Silence briefly followed Newt's announcement, both on the radio and in the Drift, both Mako and Raleigh too repulsed by the mere suggestion to even bother trying to decrypt that statement.

Fortunately, Dr. Gottlieb was there to clarify matters. “ _You have to lock on to the kaiju, ride it into the Breach. The Throat will then read the kaiju's genetic code and let you pass._ ” well, that was marginally better, if still actively suicidal.

But any hesitancy Raleigh felt toward that plan disappeared with the next transmission from LOCCENT. “ _If you don't do it, the bomb will deflect off the Breach like it always has and the mission_ will fail.” Newt finished, finality clearly evident in his last two words.

_Fuck_. Mako cursed. Raleigh matched her precisely, right down to her inflection. She pulsed a hint of amusement at him for the mimicry, seeing the humor, he returned it, but his volley was tinged with regret. Despite knowing how long their odds were, he'd allowed himself to hope. To dream. Raleigh should have known that his dreams always turned to ashes when he reached out to touch them. None of them would be coming back from this mission. All four of them would die down here, but it would not be in vain. Raleigh vowed that it would be so, in Yancy's name.

Herc, evidently, wasn't much for dragging on with sentiment. Wrestling the mike away from the two scientists, he radioed down, “ _All right, now that you've heard all that, Striker, take the leap!_ ”

“ _Sir! I have a third signature emerging from the Breach_.” Tendo called out.

“ _Third signature, emerging from the Breach!_ ” Herc echoed.

“ _How big is it?_ ” Pentecost wanted to know. “ _What Category?_ ”

There was a long, pregnant pause. Finally, Herc answered, something broken in his tone. “ _Striker, it's a Category V. The first ever_. _Codename: Slattern._ ”

Raleigh stared at Gipsy's display, his mind blank, existing in a state of mute shock. Beside him, Mako existed in a similar state of complete and utter disbelief. Soon enough, they could see it for themselves, rising from the chasm that marked the Breach. It was _huge_ , large enough to dwarf both Otachi and Leatherback, and those had been the biggest Category IV's to date. It _towered_ above Striker, who deployed her thermal sting blades in response to the creature's menace.

But Gipsy was too far away to directly help. Maybe they could have joined the battle then if the plasma cannons had been fully operational, but there had been no time to repair them after Otachi trashed the systems. They were limited to melee weapons only, which for Gipsy meant the swords Mako had installed, one on each wrist. “Striker, we see him. We're right behind you, about 100 meters. We're going to come around your three o'clock, try to flank him. Standard two-team formation.” Raleigh radioed the other Jaeger, Gipsy already in motion. “Just keep him busy for a few – ”

He cut himself off. A kaiju, Scunner, one of the forgotten Category IV's, lunged out of the deep, heading straight for Mako's position in the Conn-Pod. Operating on both instinct and complete panic at the direct threat to his copilot, Raleigh managed to swing Gipsy around just enough to catch Scunner head-on, grabbing hold with both hands. Grip secure, Mako joined Raleigh in headbutting the kaiju, relishing the screech that vibrated through the hull as a result. Taking advantage of Scunner's moment of distraction, Raleigh landed a vicious punch, following up on the momentum to tackle Scunner into the seabed.

Raleigh shoved Striker's predicament, the fact that they were relying on Gipsy for backup, from his mind. Scunner was the kaiju in front of them now, and Raleigh wanted the bastard _dead_ for the way it had targeted Mako. The way Knifehead had targeted Yancy. _No_. No, it was _not_ going to happen again. Not on his watch. _Nothing_ would happen to Mako, not while there was still breath in Raleigh's body to prevent that.

With Scunner still down, Raleigh deployed the Chain Sword from his wrist with a quick jerk. _Are you sure that's a good idea?_ Mako questioned. _You don't have the training..._

_I have you._ Raleigh returned. _And it's not like we have a lot of options here._ But scarcely had Raleigh raised his arm to strike Scunner, than Raiju came screaming out of the depths behind them, taking Raleigh's arm clean off at the shoulder, snapping Gipsy around from sheer momentum.

Raleigh couldn't help it. He screamed, screamed at the pain that was an exact mirror of the damage he'd taken in Anchorage. He could feel Mako rummaging through Gipsy's programming, searching out something, a mental switch, that corresponded with Gipsy's right arm. She threw it, and all sensation in Raleigh's circuity suit went dead in the affected limb, leaving the arm stiff and unable to move, but he could focus on the fight again.

Not a moment too soon. Scunner seized its advantage, trying to gain purchase with its jaws on Gipsy's plating. Slowly, painfully, Gipsy regained her feet as Mako deployed her own Chain Sword, the one that had finished Otachi. “Let's _get_ this son of a bitch!” Raleigh screamed as they speared Scunner through its skull and dragged it to a nearby hydrothermal vent, feeling a surge of vicious satisfaction at shoving Scunner's face into the superheated water, while the kaiju screeched and wriggled. Finally it managed to force itself away, sliding off the sword as it did so. Raleigh could feel Mako wanting to pursue it,but a hearty buffet from Scunner's tail nearly took out their right knee, sending them sprawling. Only the sword planted in the sediment prevented Gipsy from falling on her face.

The leg had taken heavy damage. Not as bad as the right arm, the leg was still holding together, if only barely, but all flexibility in the limb was gone. It wouldn't hold Gipsy's full weight. Remembering what Mako had done for his arm, Raleigh reached for the same bit of programming Mako had shown him, throwing the switch for the right knee.

“G _ipsy, coming up on your 12 o'clock!_ ” Herc warned from LOCCENT. “ _Full speed! Get out of the way!_ ”

Raiju. It had to be. Coming back for another round. But with the damage they'd taken from Scunner, they both knew Gipsy wouldn't be able to get out of the way in time. But with Mako's plan, they wouldn't need to. Raleigh pulsed his approval at his copilot as they shifted Gipsy into a brace position, sword outstretched before them. If Raiju deviated from its course by even a hair they were dead. But if it was on target...

Raiju struck, squarely where they expected it to be. Raleigh reached out through the Drift, grunting with the effort of holding the blade steady with Mako as Raiju's own momentum proved to be its undoing, helping Mako shift the position of the blade to keep it steady as Raiju literally peeled itself apart. Finally, when the pressure had fallen away from the sword, as Raiju's bisected body drifted into the waters surrounding them, Mako allowed Gipsy to rock forward onto her knees, sword raised into a formal salute. _You're fathers would be proud of you for that_ , Raleigh told her simply, truthfully. _Both of them_. He didn't need to look at his partner to know Mako's smile was blinding.

Scunner didn't stick around to meet Raiju's fate as Gipsy climbed laboriously back to her feet. _Where's it going?_ Mako asked, half-panicked.

One glance at the display showing both Jaeger's positions, and Raleigh had the answer. _Striker_ , he told her grimly. _And they already have their hands full with Slattern. Let's go_. Mako made no argument.

But they were too slow. They _knew_ they were too slow. Striker was in a bad way, losing ground to Slattern.“Hang on, Striker,” Raleigh gasped into the radio, begging the other Jaeger to last long enough for them to help. “We're coming to you.” Mako was crying silently, her throat too tight to speak. But that was what copilots were for. Raleigh spoke her words for her.

“ _No!”_ Pentecost's voice was firm over the radio. “ _Gipsy, do_ not _come to our aid_. _Do you copy?_ ”

“Hang on!” Raleigh begged, still speaking for Mako.

“ _Stay as far back as you can!_ ” the Marshal ordered.

“We can still reach you,” Raleigh argued. “We're coming for you.”

“ _No, Raleigh, listen to me_.” Raleigh blinked back the echo of Yancy's last words, and concentrated on his commander's voice. “ _You know exactly what you have to do! Gipsy is nuclear! Take her to the Breach!_ ”

“I hear you sir,” Raleigh said heavily. He did know. He surged forward in the Drift, started to turn Gipsy around, toward the Breach. “Heading for the Breach.”

Mako balked, breaking Gipsy hard, staring at Raleigh in abject horror. _No, you can't, you're leaving them to die_ , she objected. Raleigh knew what this was, he'd done it himself, in that half a heartbeat between when Knifehead had torn open the Conn-Pod and when Yancy had been killed. He hadn't been able to comprehend it, _hadn't_ allowed himself recognize what was about to happen. Yancy had, had tried to make things as easy for Raleigh as possible. Too bad there was no way to soften that blow. Mako at least had more time to come to terms with it.

“ _Mako_ ,” Penetcost called for her. “ _Listen_. _You can finish this. I'll always be there for you_.”

Mako depressed the toggle that would allow her voice to transmit, though she didn't speak. Raleigh extended a single tendril of sympathy – all he could do – before pulling all his conscious mind back into himself, out of the Drift, granting Mako as much privacy as he could manage. It was like at the hospital, when Mom was dying, the doctors and nurses had all kept out of her room on that last day, giving his family their space. It was the last time his family had been complete. If total strangers could do it, he could do no less.

That didn't keep him from hearing Pentecost over the radio as he told his daughter, “ _You can always find me in the Drift._ ” Raleigh watched as Mako squeezed her eyes shut, holding back the tears that were doubtless welling there.

When she opened her eyes, Raleigh was ready. “We're a walking nuclear reactor,” he told her starkly, his eyes locked with hers. “We can destroy the Breach.” He flowed back into the Drift, letting Mako hear the words that lurked unspoken beneath the first. _This way, they die with a purpose. They don't die for nothing_. _We can make their sacrifice worth something if we destroy the Breach and_ win.

Deliberately, Raleigh thought of the first time when the two of them had stood together, staring at the rebuilt Gipsy, when they'd first recognized the possibility of their connection. Mako's words.. _“She has a double-core nuclear reactor.”_ Mako would know the math better than he would, but if they reached the Breach and detonated Gipsy's heart, it should be enough to get the job done.

_Right_ , she responded, nodding slowly, her face already tight with grief for what she was about to lose. _We'll need Raiju's carcass. Our passage fee._ Releasing the brake she had thrown, they moved off, away from Striker, toward their fallen foe.

_Knew I could count on you._ Raleigh kept his words simple and heartfelt, knowing Mako was fragile right now. He could feel her clinging to him inside the Drift, but deliberately refused to pay attention to it. It wouldn't take much to overwhelm her right now, and they still had a job to do.

“ _What can we do, sir?_ ” Chuck sounded lost, as both Scunner and Slattern closed in.

“ _We can clear a path._ ” Pentecost said simply. “ _For the lady._ ” Mako, or Gipsy, Raleigh didn't know, and didn't care. It meant the same thing in the end.

“ _Well, my father always said,_ ” Chuck drawled with clearly false bravado, “ _If you have the shot, you take it! So let's do this_.”

Raleigh had no idea how Herc was handling this, trapped up in LOCCENT as he was. The radio from LOCCENT was silent, Herc evidently not being able to speak through his impending grief. Any idiot could see that the two men had problems, but what was equally obvious was that Herc still loved his son with every fiber of his body. And if it weren't for his arm, Herc would at least be linked mind-to-mind with his son for these last moments, as close as only two Jaeger pilots could be. Having to listen to this, knowing what was going to happen but helpless to prevent it, must be torture.

“ _It was a pleasure sir._ ” Chuck told Pentecost formally. It was almost time. They would wait to detonate until the last possible moment, to be sure they killed both kaiju at once. But both Scunner and Slattern were closing in on the crippled Jaeger fast.

Mako reached for the radio toggle. “Sensei, aishiteimasu.” she transmitted. _Farewell_.

Striker blew the payload.

~~~~~

The detonation was just as immense as Raleigh had thought it would be, when he'd first heard the size of the bespoken bomb. Raleigh could feel Mako freeze, just for a moment, at the sight of the ever expanding dome of fire that promised to destroy everything in its path. But Raleigh knew they could survive it, as he brought Gipsy smoothly to her knee, using the sword as a brace, bending her down just enough so the main force of the explosion roared over and past them, leaving them whole. _Just like turning a boat into the teeth of a wave_ , Raleigh told Mako, keeping his mental voice soft. _Sometimes you have to go with the flow to survive._

Raleigh could feel Mako begin to kick herself over the fact that she'd frozen, despite the fact that Raleigh had refused to judge her lack of reaction in any way. _You just lost your father._ Raleigh felt a hint of bite at her reaction enter his mental voice, pulled it back. This wasn't the time. _You're allowed to make a few mistakes, to fall apart if you need to. He wouldn't have begrudged you that_.

_But_ – Mako began, still trying to blame herself.

_But nothing_. Raleigh allowed his tone to firm, because there was still too much at stake for Mako to second-guess her reactions. And this needed to be said. _Remember how he counseled you after the loss of your birth parents, how he encouraged you to set up a shrine for their spirits, personally carved tablets for their ghosts? How he reacted that one year, the year his sister's tablet joined the ranks of your loss, once you realized where and when he'd lost her?_ It was all right there in the Drift, Raleigh felt no guilt bringing the images and memories forward for Mako to acknowledge them. _There's no shame in grief, Mako. I had to learn that lesson myself, after Yancy died._ And it had taken him years of drunken nights, fights, and bad calls to recognize that fact.

Mako didn't have to take that long. He was here for her, enmeshed in her memories and reactions. She could do this, Raleigh knew she could. All she needed was a helping hand here and there. _I'm here to catch you when you stumble, to prop you up when you fall. We're in this together, Mako._ Raleigh reminded her. _You don't have to bear this burden alone._

The force of the explosion had passed, and for a moment, for the length of a single, long heartbeat, Gipsy was no longer surrounded by water, was standing in open air at the bottom of the ocean, as fish dropped lifeless to the sediment. Then came the massive deluge, as the dry bubble popped and water came rushing back in to fill the gap. The rush of water nearly flattened Gipsy, rupturing lines, blowing connections. The emergency lights came up, filling the Conn-Pod with blood-red light. Raleigh wanted to wince at the state of Gipsy's board, but they couldn't afford the time, which was abruptly a factor in a Jaeger as battered as Gipsy was. Sooner or later, at these depths, her hull _would_ breach, and they had to be in position and detonate before then or all of this would have been for nothing. “Systems are critical!” Raleigh gasped into the radio, his hand running frantically over his half of the board, “Fuel's leaking, our right leg's crippled.” His eyes met Mako's, her face lit by the surrounding red glow. “Let's finish this.” Mako bared her teeth at him in reply.

There was Raiju, lying on the bottom like a hunk of meat left abandoned for the scavengers. Mako bent down, teeth gritted, to grasp a section the bisected body and begin hauling it away, a difficult task made all the more so by the fact that Gipsy was crippled all down her right side. Raleigh cursed himself again for losing Gipsy's right arm the way he had, because now – in order to grab their prize – Gipsy was forced to sacrifice her crutch.

“LOCCENT, we have the kaiju carcass,” Raleigh reported in. “We're heading for the Breach.”

It was slow going, dragging what was left of Raiju along the sediment. Raleigh pulsed a bit of agreement at Mako's thought that it was as well that the condition of the kaiju corpse mattered not a whit, that all they needed it for was it's DNA. Speaking of...Raleigh got back on the horn to LOCCENT. “You guys better be right about this,” Raleigh told the two scientists who had insisted that they needed the heavy carcass to complete their mission, “Because one way or another, we're getting this thing done.”

They were getting close, they were almost there, almost at the fissure that marked the Breach's location, when the unthinkable happened. Slattern, somehow still alive after enduring the massive explosion when Striker Eureka detonated the payload, swooped overhead, and landed in front of them, directly between them and the Breach. Slattern was visibly hurt, glowing kaiju blue coating much of it's torso from a number of oozing wounds, but it's posture was unmistakable: Gipsy would have to go through it to get at the Breach.

_No_ , Mako moaned, her complete and utter despair staining the Drift like blood in the water. _Nooo_. It was too much for her, the loss of Striker, of Chuck, of Pentecost...and learning that it hadn't been enough...? No wonder she was having trouble wrapping her mind around it. It was understandable, if nothing else.

But that didn't change the facts. Including the fact that if Mako didn't snap out of her fugue state _now_ , they really _weren't_ going to make it through. _Don't think like that_ , Raleigh snapped at her, deliberately harsh. He had a plan, one that would both eliminate the obstacle in their path and get them to the Breach, but he needed Mako's participation to make it happen. He reached out through the Drift and forced her fingers to release Raiju's corpse. _We don't need that anymore._

They really didn't. “On my count, rear jets!” he called to her, out loud to shake her from her despair. Raleigh could feel the instant Mako came back to him, comprehended his plan, and signaled her readiness, all in the space of a single heartbeat. They were going for the Breach, _through_ Slattern. “Three...two...one. _Now!!!_ ”

Raleigh hit the jets as Mako readied the sword. Gipsy rocketed forward, her feet blasting off the ground as they slammed into Slattern, bodily knocking it from the ledge and over the chasm that led straight down into the Breach. Mako slammed the sword into the Category V, piercing it through, locking them together. “Hold on!” Raleigh called to her as they went over.

But Slattern was not done. It's three tails arched over and into Gipsy, the barbs on the ends tearing into her from behind. Raleigh gritted his teeth and pushed through the pain, not even taking the time to deaden the sensation with Mako's program patch. It wasn't for much longer, they were almost there...but it was time for Slattern to _die_.

“Hold on Mako!” Raleigh called to his partner again, as his hands danced over his board, prepping Gipsy's final surprise. “I'm going to _burn_ this son of a bitch.” He hit the button, and could have sworn he felt Gipsy's core open, venting her used exhaust that had been trapped inside her until now. Slattern screeched and struggled, trying in vain to get away from the spray of fiery agony, but Mako held firm, keeping them locked together through sheer determination. Finally, Slattern went limp, just as blue-white threads of lightning reached up from the Breach to embrace them, allowing them passage through.

They'd done it.

They had made it inside the Breach.

~~~~~

The Breach was...Raleigh had no context to describe the world of the Breach. Everything was purple-blue, with shades of pink and white scattered around to define various amorphous shapes and blue-white lightning danced around the space... but Raleigh could tell that he wasn't so much _seeing_ them, as they were the best representations his brain could make as to what he was actually looking at. Gravity seemed not to exist, Gipsy was floating, drifting in...some fluid state without any clearly defined up or down. They weren't _falling_ through the Breach exactly– despite all the representations Raleigh had seen which defined the Breach as a vertical tunnel – more floating. But that wasn't what was important.

Mako had retracted her sword, freeing Slattern's corpse. She was fading, she was falling, falling out of the Drift, and Raleigh put aside his musings about the interior of the Breach, to surge up beneath her, trying to grab hold of her and keep her with him, like he had done after Striker detonated the payload, like she had done during the battle with Otachi. But he failed, his reach too slow, not enough... it didn't matter. She slipped through his hands like water, vanishing into the abyss. But there was no sense of something vital snapping in his mind, no avalanche of loss spiraling through his being. Mako was still alive. That was something at least.

Pulling himself out of the trance he'd put himself into as he tried to catch his copilot, Raleigh opened his physical eyes and saw what was wrong. Mako's oxygen line was snapped nearly-completely off, the majority of her air seeping into the interior of the Conn-Pod instead of into her lungs. There was only one thing to do. Raleigh reached for his own oxygen line, unsnapping it from his own armor with ease, and plugged it into place in Mako's armor, after he pulled what was left of hers away. It slotted perfectly into place, the housing undamaged.

_Thank you_. Raleigh wasn't sure if he were speaking or thinking the words, but the sentiment was clear in his mind regardless. There was at least a chance, a chance Mako could live. She wouldn't die here, in Gipsy's crumbling Conn-Pod, she would _live_. Two pilots were not required to initiate a core meltdown. He could do this on his own.

He could already feel the burn in his lungs as they struggled for enough air to breathe, but that didn't matter now. “It's okay now, Mako.” Raleigh told her, speaking aloud from habit. Both of them were still hooked into their spinal clamps, both still hooked into the Drift, even if it had largely collapsed on her end. She _had_ to hear him, somehow: physically, or mentally, it didn't matter which, so long as she heard. “We did it.” She could take that with her at least.

There was more Raleigh wanted to say, but he couldn't find the words. “I can finish this alone,” he told her after an endless heartbeat, wanting to reassure her as much as he could. That screw-up that he was, he could still do this much. “All I have to do is fall.” he reached up and touched her head, a paternal gesture of love and comfort he'd seen Pentecost use with her in the Drift. And yes, paternal was not the direction Raleigh's thoughts ran toward Mako, but this wasn't about him. This was about her, and what she would take with her for the long ride back to the surface, what would bring her peace after he was gone. “Anyone can fall.”

Raleigh let his hand fall from Mako's helmet as he turned back to the control board. “ _Raleigh, your oxygen levels are critical now. You don't have much time!_ ” Tendo called from LOCCENT. Raleigh ignored his friend, concentrating on Mako's half of the board, on finding the escape pod triggers. Finding the correct control, Raleigh hit it, and watched the mechanism lift Mako up and into the escape pod, located in the top of Gipsy's crown. “ _Start the core meltdown and get out of there. Do you hear me? Get out of there now!_ ” Tendo ordered.

Raleigh waited until Mako was in her pod and on her way, heading back the way they'd come, through the Breach, and up to the ocean's surface, before returning his attention to what he still had to do.

Whatever happened now, Mako would survive.

“LOCCENT, if you can still hear me,” Raleigh gasped out, his lungs already beginning to ache from his thin air, his fingers dancing over his board, “I'm initiating...reactor override now.” Hitting the correct control, he waited for the prompts that would tell him that Gipsy had begun her final sacrifice.

Nothing. _Malfunction_ , ran his screen. _Manual activation required_.

Raleigh wanted to curse. He wanted to scream. He wanted to rage, at the kaiju, at Slattern – who was already dead – at Gipsy's overworked systems, but he held it all back. Any of that would take more air than he had, and it was depleting faster with every breath already. Raleigh knew what he had to do.

Shrugging out of his harness, he disconnected from Gipsy and hurried across the Conn-Pod, as quickly as his blurred vision and faltering breaths would allow him. Water began to spray, micro-fissures in Gipsy's hull thanks to Scunner and Slattern's attacks finally taking their toll, adding to the difficulty. Add that to the fluctuating gravity of the Breach... and you had the set piece for a nightmare. But this one, Raleigh vowed, would end all further kaiju nightmares on Earth.

He stumbled and slid, bouncing off walls and clinging to protrusions, to avoid falling into the mass of churning gears and pistons that made Gipsy move. Raleigh knew that if he fell here, he'd _fail_ , and that couldn't happen. Thankfully, where he dragged himself to safety was close to the manual activation switch, safely contained behind a cover.

Raleigh knelt at the correct spot, lifted the cover, and gripped the override mechanism, locking it into place. “Manual override initiated.” he said, more from habit than anything else. It wasn't as if there was anyone here, or that LOCCENT was receiving him. He was all alone here, as alone as he'd been that fateful day nearly five years ago, when Yancy had been torn out of his head, and out of his life. He hadn't shut up then, either, one of his nurses had told him that they'd recovered the Conn-Pod recordings and that he'd spent the entire six hours tramping around the Gulf calling for his lost brother. She'd been reassigned shortly afterward, when Raleigh would have nothing further to do with her.

The LCD numbers blinked at him. One minute. “Core meltdown in T-minus 60.” Raleigh gasped out, just as the numbers changed to 59...58...57... The countdown had begun. It was time to make his way back.

Raleigh didn't remember his return trip to the Conn-Pod. Didn't recall making his way back, ducking jetting water and flying sparks in equal measure, though now that he was thinking about it, the former seemed to have ceased. What that meant, Raleigh wasn't sure he wanted to know. All he knew was that somehow, he'd ended up back at his harness, was in position to step back into it and trigger his own escape pod. He set his feet in the slots, felt the clamps lock them into place, felt his wrists being encircled by the arm clamps. But he hesitated at pushing the final button, the one that would eject him as well.

On the Wall, Raleigh had hesitated to die, because dying by stupidity, by accident, wasn't the right way to rejoin Yancy. But this, this would be a death Yancy would be proud of, that he'd approve of. No one would blame him, no one would even know he'd chosen to die, they'd all think he simply hadn't gotten out of the way in time. And Raleigh missed his brother _so much_ –

But there was Mako to consider. Beautiful, stubborn, smart, brave Mako, who had lost all her anchors, all she had to be certain of in the world. All her family was dead, her birth family, the man who'd raised her, the little brother/best friend/ex-boyfriend who was Chuck...Raleigh was all she had left. Just because he was ready to die, that didn't mean that he could so easily abandon someone who would need him after this. Someone who called to him even now from above the waves.

The environment visible through Gipsy's viewscreen had changed. From the soft blues and purple-pinks of the Breach, now Gipsy was tumbling slowly through space, the air around her a dark orange, lit by a dying sun with the appearance of a colossal eye.

Was he on the other side of the Breach? Raleigh didn't know. But just in case that was the case, he took the time to fire Gipsy's jets once again, just enough to straighten her out, so she was vertical again. If this was the enemy's homeworld, than Gipsy would go to her death on her feet, with dignity. Gipsy had already done so much for him, he owed his girl that much.

He hit the trigger for his own escape pod. As Raleigh felt the mechanism respond, he pictured the countdown, deep in Gipsy's systems. Had he left it too late? He was about to find out. Getting back into the Conn-Pod had eaten up some of his time, positioning Gipsy for her end had taken more precious seconds as well. His harness moved up, depositing Raleigh in his pod, which sealed itself and jettisoned as soon as he was inside. But still he held on to consciousness, fought the blackness that was threatening to erode his vision. He wanted to _know_ , wanted to stand witness for Gipsy's final triumph.

His pod had just crossed the threshold of the Breach when Gipsy blew. Raleigh felt the punch of the explosion, felt the force of it catapult him through the strange liquid state of the Breach – Gipsy saving him one last time – before the rough ride and his straining lungs got the better of him.

Darkness overtook him. _See you soon, Yancy._ Raleigh thought hazily. _Mako, I'm sorry._

Then he knew no more.

~~~~~

_That's a sweet girl you've got, the one you replaced me with._

Yancy? Didn't. Couldn't replace you.

_'course you did, lunkhead. And I don't blame you, glad for you actually. Watching you throw your life away on the waste of fucking time that was the Wall, physically_ hurt _, dude. Or at least, it would have if I still had a body. But enough about that. The two of you were great together. At least as good as you and I ever were._

_You did good, real good kiddo. You did it. You got the job done. But you can't join me just yet, you moron. She needs you._

Want to stay.

_I know you do, Raleigh. But it's not time for you to go just yet. I'll still be here when you finally catch up to me, don't worry. And Old Man Pentecost and the Hansen Brat want me to tell you, do_ not _screw it up with her. She's special. What she sees in_ you _, I will never know._

Yeah, she is.

_Glad we agree. Now get going –_

~~~~~

The sound of water was the first thing to hit Raleigh's ears, the gentle lap of wavelets against a surface. The rocking motion of those same waves under the first sensation his waking mind comprehended. Raleigh kept his eyes closed, his mind still categorizing the sounds and sensations he was feeling.

There was warmth on his skin, a light breeze ruffling his hair. Was he dead? He remembered giving Mako his oxygen, remembered blowing Gipsy on the other side of the Breach. He even thought he remembered Yancy, his brother hugging him tight, before giving him a hard shake, wanting him to do something, something Raleigh was reluctant to do.

But, he thought he also felt something wet on his shoulder. Thought he heard someone crying, their voice muffled, as if from far away, or as if the speaker had their face crushed to his shoulder as she fought to get the words out. And the iron bands around his chest, preventing him from drawing a full breath were arms, _Mako's_ arms, holding him to her with all the strength in her body. “...don't go...” Mako wept, “Please...don't go... _please_...”

Raleigh needed to reassure her, and for that, he needed to breathe. “You're squeezing me too tight.” he managed to get out.

He felt Mako freeze, felt her arms tighten around him in surprise for just an instant, before they loosened in stunned relief, a slight giggle escaping her mouth. Pulling back just enough so he could see her face, but not enough to slip out of her embrace entirely, Raleigh explained, his face deadpan,“I couldn't breathe.”

Raleigh meant it as a joke, even if it was true enough. From her reaction, Mako had honestly believed him dead – and maybe he had been, for just a minute. If he had seen Yancy, then, did that mean that he had been gone as well? Raleigh wasn't sure.

Mako, at least, took it as it was intended, and started laughing. Just a small chuckle at first, but quickly blooming into full-throated laughter. Raleigh started laughing as well, infected by her mirth – even as he knew that his little joke really hadn't been funny. But after what they'd just been through, after what they'd just survived, a little laughter went a long way to easing the heartache that was sure to come. But now was the time to celebrate, particularly once Raleigh heard – through the speakers in Mako's suit –

“ _This is Marshal Hercules Hansen. The Breach is Sealed. Stop the Clock!!_ ”

Raleigh whooped with joy, turning the tables on Mako by squeezing her so tightly he thought he heard her ribs creak under her armor. She met him halfway, gripping him just as tightly as he held her, keeping him as close as physically possible for their separate bodies to be. Raleigh didn't struggle, knowing in his bones what was running through her: she had lost her father, she had lost the boy she had been raised with, she had almost lost him. She needed to _feel_ he was alive, whole, there beside her.

His own losses less immediate, Raleigh was content to let her set the pace. When Mako moved to release him, Raleigh followed suit, though they didn't go far. They still stayed in constant contact, holding hands and gazing mutely into each others eyes.

Tendo spoke up, speaking from the emergency line to LOCCENT embedded in Mako's suit. The one in Raleigh's suit wasn't functioning for some reason. “ _Mako, Raleigh, we have your position. The choppers are on their way_. _Just, just hang on._ ” Raleigh looked up and away from Mako, as the first rumble of the choppers began to make themselves obvious.

_Yep, see 'em_. Raleigh commented to Mako as he met her eyes again. _You ready to face the world again?_

_Are you?_ Mako questioned. He could see in her eyes that she knew that this level of connection couldn't last. That eventually, they would have to face the world as two separate people again, not this single unit born from the Drift. They would lose the absolute awareness of what each other was thinking, feeling as the Ghost Drift continued to fall apart. But for now, this was enough.

_With you? Always._ Raleigh responded, smiling slightly and leaning forward, resting his forehead against hers. Tendo's voice sounded in both their ears again, but they'd long since tuned him out. This was for them. Soon enough the world would intrude, but right now, they were the only two people who existed, who would ever exist in this fragile world they had created together.

The helicopters buzzed overhead, kicking up spray to surround them, but Raleigh and Mako paid them no attention, too wrapped up in their awareness of each other. They had done it. They had sealed the Breach. Detonated Gipsy's core, and blown the world on the other side of the Breach apart. Raleigh had seen to that personally. It was too soon to tell if the war was over for good, if another Breach would be formed, and the kaiju would return, but for now at least, it was over.

_They had won._

No sooner had that realization crashed over the two of them, Mako abruptly collapsed in Raleigh's arms, sobbing as all her pent-up grief opened up at once, crying for everything and everyone they'd both lost, the innocence forever shattered, the children forced to grow up too soon. She was crying because at long last, the nightmare was over, and that monsters could once again be relegated to bedtime stories. The grief, and the relief, combining to leave her absolutely wreaked.

Raleigh held her to him, letting the movement of the waves rock her, rock them both, as his own tears trickled into her wet hair. There was no rush, they had all the time in the world, just for them.

The rest of the world didn't exist. Not really. All that was real was curled up against Raleigh's chest, leaning against his armor and shaking with the force of her sobs. “We're safe,” Raleigh whispered into Mako's hair, “We're home.”

~~~~~

**Author's Note:**

> I wasn't going to write this story. Truly, I wasn't. 
> 
> I was going to rest on my laurels from Mako's POV, and let the novelization stand for Raleigh's. But then a strange thing happened. 
> 
> I was re-reading Mako's POV, when I started abruptly hearing Raleigh's voice in my head, specifically, his POV of the scene I was reading. And then I remembered, that Raleigh in the novelization shares virtually nothing with the Raleigh we fell in love with in Pacific Rim, and that this was an opportunity to set the record straight, so to speak. 
> 
> The exact reason Raleigh left the PPDC is entirely my headcanon. I know it says that he refused the survivors benefits in his official dossier, and the only reason I could find for why he would cut ties so completely is if he were running, and actively trying to hide from the PPDC. Of course, it also says he refused the final brain scan, but since we know it's not automatically assumed that a solo pilot can just get back in a Jaeger (thanks to Pentecost) and the fact that the only reasons Raleigh offers as to why he can no longer pilot are emotional ones, that makes me believe that he was physically cleared to jockey again. Which would include a brain scan, likely multiple ones during different stages of his recovery. And why he and Mako match up so well, when his neural patterns was most likely altered by going solo. If someone else wants to use my idea for a fic of their own, they are welcome to it. Just remember, credit is your friend. 
> 
> Please review and let me know what you think


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